


Drabbles From Role-Play

by 11_Gadget_27



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Adult Themes, Chellick - Freeform, Drabbles, Gen, Like, M/M, Multi, Pallin - Freeform, Short Stories, Turians, garrus - Freeform, role play, saren - Freeform, sometimes in-game characters show up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-02-12 05:32:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 57
Words: 44,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12952374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11_Gadget_27/pseuds/11_Gadget_27
Summary: Drabbles- short stories- collected from the last five years of role play over on Tumblr. Each chapter will be a different drable from one of my three characters: Mavic, Crassus and Cato. I'll post a link at the beginning of each chapter to show the inspiration for the drabble. Some of these are no more than a few paragraphs and some are several pages worth. I just thought it was time to share what I'd been up to. I;ve left out a few I wasn't comfortable sharing here for lack of permission from other rp'ers. You can find them in full at mavicvirim.tumblr.com/tagged/drabble/chrono or over on crassussativum.tumblr.com/tagged/drabble/chrono. Song fic drabbles are all from Florence & The Machine.  Not all drabbles contain the ticked warnings but I'll let you know ahead of time in each chapter if they do. This will be listed as incomplete for as long as I'm still writing drabbles over on tumblr. Mass effect does not belong to me.





	1. Testing the Equipment- Mavic Drabble

**Author's Note:**

> First, I'll introduce you to the first incarnation of Mavic Virim, Spectre Requisitions and general gunsmith. This is also the first bit of rp I did. I hope, as things go on, you'll be able to see how things have improved.

Mavic parked the cart that was nearly overflowing with weapons’ cases just to the left of the station used to attach/remove modifications and engaged the brake to keep it from rolling off like the last time. Executor Chellick- Pallin’s replacement- had assigned him the job of testing out their stock earlier in the day. So here he was with his cart laden down with nearly his entire stockpile of mods and the handful of guns he was adept at using. He pulled the first two cases from the stack and set them on the mod bench. Mavic unloaded the Talon from the box first and took it over to try in it on the targets without adding any mods; he needed a base for comparison after all. He took aim with a two-handed grip, breathed in and then out as he fired. Right away he knew attaching a stabilizer would be a good idea; his shot had gone far too wide.

He went back to the mod bench and attached the best stabilizer he’d brought before repeating. Better, but not great. Detaching the mod, Mavic made a notation in his omnitool and put the weapon away. Then he grabbed a different pistol from the cases, an M-5 Phalanx. It took him roughly three shots to fell each of the target types -shields, armor and normal “flesh”- and that was without any modifications. Humming a satisfied note, he entered the data into his ‘tool and replaced the gun in its home too; no need to add to that one now. Maybe during his free time he’d play around with it.

Five pistols and many varied results later, Mavic moved onto the first of five sub-machine guns he’d brought. It was going to be a long day but it was going to be a fun one.


	2. Happy Anniversary: 2175

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another of Mavic Virim's original incarnation

It was sitting on the table when Mavic woke up the next day feeling hungover and pleasantly sore. A stuffed a child’s toy about as big as his head, bright pink in places and paler purple in others. The hanar sat on its curled tentacles pretty as you please with a piece of paper propped against its side.  _“Been saving this for you since you liked the movie so much. Happy anniversary Mavi, C.S.”_   Mavic grinned, he’d thought Crassus had forgotten.

He took Blasto back to the bed with him, jamming himself up against Crassus’ front. “Thank you.” He whispered and kissed him tenderly. The giant of a turian just mumbled something in his sleep and threw one heavy arm over him to pull him in even closer. Blasto caught between their bodies, Mavic fell back to sleep.


	3. Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another of Mavic. This one was brought about by another rp'er sending me an ask. Fair warning for mention of cancer and implied character death

✏ - write a drabble or just give some headcanons about a major event in your character’s life-Officersidonis

 

Orick Virim looked awful, drawn and nearly emaciated he’d lot so much weight over the last few months. Mavic’s mother looked even worse. Her golden plating was pale, the light bronze of her skin dull and so dry looking. A keen of despair caught in his throat and his father squeezed his shoulder in support. He wanted to know why they hadn’t told him, why they’d kept his mother’s illness from him for so long. Spirits she’d been sick and undergoing  treatment for years and he’d never known, never even suspected that something was wrong.

Desya’s lungs had started shutting down a day ago due to a lifetime of breathing in ship exhaust. There was a machine assisting her and she was awake and aware and half smiling at her son.

That keen worked its way out of his chest and Mavic’s voice cracked as he went to her side. “Momma,”


	4. A Matter of Principle: Mavic and Crassus drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came about after I got talked into making a verse where Mavic and Crassus both entered the Blackwatch and later worked together to right a serious wrong done to a friend. Warnings for violence and gore.

(For [ahyesreaperscouncilor](http://tmblr.co/mJOiz2Txf1HUOcmSiJl9dVg))

“We need permission to go off station.”

“And we can’t get permission without informing the general as to why. Do  _you_  want to be the one to tell him what was done to his son by the guards he assigned?”

“Fuck no. Irius didn’t even want us to know.” Mavic said with guarded tones. “Spirits Crass, he doesn’t…I don’t think he comprehends just how bad this is.”

“From what he told me and what I put together on my own, he doesn’t remember it happening, thank the spirits. I’d say he was probably drugged before each occurrence.”

The smaller turian started growling again, heated curses dropping from his mouth. Crassus let it go on for a few minutes before he said anything. There wasn’t any way they could go about this legally. If Irius reported what had happened to him, even with his position as Councilor there would be no keeping it out of the media, no chance at keeping it private like the man wanted and deserved. It was something they’d have to handle in house and as the men would be executed for their…transgression anyway, he and Mavic had decided to do the deed themselves.

“It’s only Tarcus Mienax that left the station and he’ll come back,” He set his rifle case on the table between them, flipping it open and getting it ready for use. “He already has before.”

“Clavius told me where I could find four of them.” Mavic shared, meaning the only one of Irius’ guards that had never harmed him. “They have a weekly card game at an apartment, we can get them all in one go, make it look like an accident or something.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“How about something classic like a gas leak and a spark?” Mavic grinned a predator’s grin, all teeth and grim determination.

Crassus nodded once. “I’ll leave that to you then.”

Three days later, the explosion made the news; four causalities but no other reported injuries. C-Sec determined the blast had been caused by old and faulty piping, odd that the Keepers hadn’t noticed and fixed the problem but accidents happened and it was no one’s fault. Mavic couldn’t stop smiling. He was good at what he did and he took pride in it.

Crassus took out the fifth man, nothing special or flashy like the explosion. Just a simple shot through the head at a hundred yards, the body falling past the kinetic barrier at the docks. By the time it was recovered it had been so chewed up by varying mass effect fields that the cause of death wasn’t determinable.

More than a month passed before Tarcus returned to the Citadel and Mavic had called dibs on him. He’d never seen the tiny Carthaan make so brutal a kill before, or be so satisfied by it. When he stepped from the alley covered by and dripping with blue turian blood he’d been smiling like a demon.

“What did you do with the body?” Crassus asked him cautiously, wary of this level of brutality from a man whose kills had always been quick and clean.

“I left him to rot.” Mavic answered. “Don’t worry; his own mother wouldn’t recognize him after what I did.” 


	5. THE SCARS LEFT BEHIND: MAVIC AND CRASSUS: 2181 // DRABBLE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My characters Mavic and Crassus have left each other with a lot of scars, inside and out. This is just one instance. Some smut in this one.

Crassus fucking him happened a lot sooner than he had planned for. They were yelling at each other; Crassus telling him to fuck off while Mavic replied he’d much rather I  _get off_ when the giant Invictian had finally snapped. Before he knew it he was on the ground, his legs wrapped around the man’s waist. And Crassus, the spirits bless him, was ripping their clothing away and pushing into him  _so hard_. Mavic had dragged his talons down his back, gripped his ass and pulled him in even deeper. The twisted snarl of lust Crassus made reverberating in his ears. A sound he’d copied as he was roughly pushed away and positioned on his knees. The man’s talons slid  _into_  him and Mavic had cum screaming on the spot. Crassus fucked him for several long minutes while he’d collapsed forward with his head down and his ass up to receive him. Eventually the man jerked him closer and came deep, deep inside him moaning his name. After that all Mavic remembered was Crassus saying he was sorry over and over before his eyes closed.


	6. WHEN WE MEET AGAIN: CRASSUS AND MAVIC: 2181 // DRABBLE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mavic and Crassus meet again. This was after I'd been talked into that Blackwatch verse.

It couldn’t be  _him_. There were plenty of short turians. There were trillions with that silver-grey plating, himself included. There was every possibility that it wasn’t him. There was every possibility that it was. When the small turian’s eyes met him, Crassus very nearly swallowed his tongue.

_Oh Spirits_.

It had been five years since he’d seen the man standing next to General Renius Sparatus, dwarfed by him and still so small compared to the rest of them. But he held himself like he stood miles above them all; like he could easily touch the stratosphere. Five years since they’d seen each other, let alone even talked. When Crassus had left him, he’d cut all ties completely knowing that it would be better if Mavic hated him. Because there was every chance he wouldn’t have made it back and he hadn’t wanted the little Carthaan to waste away mourning a mate. Spirits he had never even taken his shore leaves on the Citadel where Mavic had talked about settling. Out of sight, out of mind; better for Mavic that way, better for his sanity too.

Crassus had never expected to see the other man again and never like this. Mavic wore the unit’s uniform; shades of black from the deepest charcoal all the way to midnight, the accents and striping dark grey. On one shoulder there was a skull that marked him as an assassin…the same skull that was on Crassus’ own shoulder. He didn’t understand. The Mavic he remember had never….he’d killed, yes, they all had, but…

Mavic met his eyes through the gathering of bodies and there was something in their sunset color that had never been there before. Something Crassus had seen in the eyes of countless killers that enjoyed taking a life. He held his breath and waited for the little Carthaan to look away. The younger man smiled at him and Crassus felt a cold drop of fear follow the length of his spine. 

That wasn’t Mavic. He didn’t know who that was but it  _was not_  Mavic. And Crassus wanted nothing to do with whoever that was wearing his face. Nothing.

But then things were dispersing and Mavic- or rather the man wearing his face- was coming over, heading right for him. He froze, rooted to the spot as much as he wished he could flee.

“Crassus. I missed you.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared down at him.

“Did…did you miss me too?” The man’s harmonics were full of hope and desire.

Crassus swallowed. He’d missed Mavic, dreamed about him, unfairly compared every lover to him, made him the standard to be judged by.

“Crass?" 

He couldn’t go through that- the best time of his life, the happiest- again. “Get away from me.”

Mavic’s face fell and he made a sound like he’d been gut-punched and Crassus instantly regretted his harsh tone.

"I’m…sorry.” He told the smaller man. “What are you doing here?”

“Mom died.”

_Shit._ “How’s Orick?" 

Mavic seemed to force a shrug. “Dad’s doing better but for a while there it was…bad.”

"I’m sorry for your loss Mavic.” Crassus said sincerely, stepping a little closer to him before he realized what he was doing and stopped. “Your mom was the best, better to me than my own. The spirits guide her home.”

“Thank you. She loved you too.”

There was an awkward silence as Mavic stood there looking up at him while he tried to look anywhere but at his former love. Several tense moments passed and then he spoke so softly Crassus didn’t hear him.

“What?”

Mavic moved closer to him, got within touching distance. “I asked if I could hug you.”

He recoiled. “I don’t think that’s a good-“

“Please Crass. It’s just a hug.”

Way, way against his better judgement, Crassus opened his arms and Mavic crashed against his chest. Arms tight around him.

“I missed you so much.”

“…I missed you too Mavi.” He confessed and leaned down to press his face to the smaller man’s neck. 


	7. Memories of Sorrow: Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one inspired by an ask

Crassus held his backpack in one hand. The thing had been with him for years and the giant Invictian hadn’t touched it since they’d moved in together, there hadn’t been any need to. “I got accepted.” He said.

“Accepted? Into the Blackwatch?”

The man nodded silently.

“That’s great! When do you leave for training? I can call dad and the three of us can-”

“I’ve got a shuttle leaving in an hour.”

“An hour?” Mavic asked. “Spirits that’s really short notice. Do they just-”

“I’ve know for a month. I’ve been getting things together so I could leave.”

Mavic stared at him failing to comprehend as Crassus came closer and ran a hand over his fringe, cupping the back of his neck and bringing their foreplates to rest together affectionately.

“It’s been fun Mavi.” He said and pushed him away, turning on his heel and walking out the door without a backwards glance.

“It’s been…what? Crassus?” Mavic tried to follow him but by the time his frozen body moved, the other man was long gone and the hallway outside was empty.


	8. No Mercy: Blackwatch Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An ask wanting a time mercy was asked for but not given.

♛ :A time when mercy was requested but not provided

Half his unit was gone, tossed like children’s toys repeated until their spines had snapped or skulls crushed from the force of the asari’s biotics. Mav only had her pinned now because he’d managed to sneak in behind her while she was busy with someone else. He’d tackled her to the ground face first and got an arm around her neck, squeezing and cutting off her air while he tried to rip out the amp at the base of her neck with his talons.

“Don’t do that turian! Let me go! Please!”

She squirmed and wiggled, trying to throw him off but Mav got his talons dug around the edges of the amp and pulled with all his strength until is came loose. He heard the vicious CRACK of her spine and felt her go limp in death.


	9. What We Want, We can't Have: Blackwatch Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mavic has dreams and he has some sense too.

◈ for a drabble of what my muse secretly wants to happen with your muse.)

_“I’m gonna take Irius off station.” Mavic tells Crassus one day. “I’m going to take him to Carthaan, up into the mountains, to that place I showed you one time. Remember? I’ll take him there. He loves me, y’know. I figure…even if I can’t return it, I should do special things for him. So I’m gonna take him off station.”_

But the next time he was with Irius, he lost his nerve for whatever strange reason- he’d later tell himself that the mood just wasn’t right- and he doesn’t offer to take Irius away with him. No jokes about running away together, no stories about the beauties of his home planet. Not a word. He doesn’t want to get the man’s hopes up. Or his own.


	10. The Truth Will Set You Free: Blackwatch Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mavic's asked to give a real apology for breaking the heart of his greatest love.

Mavic had honestly been dreading this, he’d known for years- more years than he really liked to think about- that he’d have to say something at some point. But the need to had become an obsession and now… now he couldn’t ignore it. Spending the time between assignments on the Citadel was a common enough occurrence for them now, and they spent it in that little apartment they’d rented together when they’d first left the Havincaw after Crassus’ service time had ended and Mavic had been in the middle of his own. Maybe that they’d chosen to settle here after everything was making things worse, Mavic didn’t know. It felt like it some times. It was hard to look somewhere, at something in the apartment and not be reminded of better times.

He often wondered how different things would be if he’d just told Crassus how he’d felt back then. If he’d just taken the time while they’d laid together in the afterglow to say  _“You mean the world to me. I love you.”_  Mavic occasionally told himself it wouldn’t have mattered, that Crassus still would have left. Occasionally he told himself the opposite. He still hadn’t figured out which was more painful. The truth or the fantasy.

Crassus was stretched out on that couch that had come from Mavic’s bedroom back on Carthaan. They’d begged his dad for it.  _“You said you wanted a new one anyway. Let me take the old one, it’s still good. And this way you don’t have to pay the disposal fee. Please dad?”_ Orick had relented after a time and Mavic had jumped up to hug his father’s neck and he’d known the man was looking over his shoulder at Crassus, speaking to him without words or harmonics. He still didn’t know what had passed between them but when he’d let his father go, they’d all been smiling.

The truth or the fantasy. Spirits he didn’t know.

“Mavic?”

Oh. He’d been standing there a bit, hadn’t he?

Crassus sat up, laying the datapad he’d been reading on the cushions and Mavic wondered if he’d been reading another of the books he’d downloaded for him. Or if he’d been going over a report; dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s. He was always so thorough with their work. Crassus was thorough about everything he did and Mavic liked that about him.

“Mavic? What’s wrong?”

His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. Glued there by indecision and need and compulsion and- Oh spirits he was really doing this wasn’t he?

“When you left,” He began and watched Crassus’ face go from confusion to understanding in the span of a heartbeat. “When you left I felt like you’d thrown me away, like after everything, I wasn’t good enough for you. I wasn’t this idea person you thought I was and you’d had enough with me. It did more than break my heart, it broke  _me_. Really broke me.”

Mavic had to stop and gather himself. The old hurt, as he liked to call it, had come back full force for a moment there as he remembered standing at  the door to this very apartment as Crassus had simply walked out of his life.  _“It’s been fun Mavi.”_

“It took me years to figure out why you’d left. It took me joining the Blackwatch too, to understand that you’d left to protect me. I really wish you’d just told me that. If you had I could have spent those five years we were apart not hating myself. I never hated you; I loved you I just couldn’t…. I couldn’t understand, y'know?”

Crassus’ green eyes met his and Mavic could see the truth in them. He’d loved him back and was just as destroyed for what he’d done.

“So when I met you again… I lashed out. You seemed so content and at peace with your life without me and I… I wanted you to hurt like I hurt. I didn’t realize you already did.”

“Mavic-”

“Let me finish, okay? This is important and I have to get it out. I’m sorry Crassus. I’m sorry. Sorry that I used you, sorry that I pretended you were nothing but a good fuck. I’m sorry I tried to destroy you from the inside out. I was angry and petty and vindictive and I just wanted you to suffer like I was. The truth is…. Spirits Crassus, the truth is that I never stopped loving you, not for a single second. I thought if I made you hate me- like you tried to do with me, don’t deny it because I know now- I thought that if you hated me, I could let you go.”

The Invictian stood from the couch, towering over him by more than a foot and oh how he’d loved that. Looking up at him. Seeing emotion he hadn’t known the name for. He did now.

Mavic took a step back, putting himself against the closed door. “I’m sorry.” He said again. “I love you Crassus, I always have and maybe I always will. But you and I both know we’ve hurt each other too much to ever be together again. Now that we both have someone else…. It would just be cruel to everyone involved. So I’ve got to let you go. I’ve got to stopping hoping. Do you understand? I want you to be happy without me. And if you hate me in the process for all that I’ve done to you, I’ll understand because I know I deserve every ounce of hate you have.”

Crassus stepped toward him and Mavic closed his eyes. Waiting for anger, violence, hate. Anything but what he got. Arms sliding around him and pulling him close, squeezing him in a hug. Crassus’ head laying on his and his voice. Calm, soothing, right against his ear.

“I loved you too.” Crassus told him but that wasn’t as important as what he said next. “And I forgive you.”

For the first time since his mom had died- the thing that had really broken him but he’d address that with Crassus at another time- Mavic cried.


	11. Say You're Sorry: Evil Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This verse was a head fuck. A lot of terrible things happened. A lot of terrible things. Warning for blood and character death.

[razekpraxis](http://tmblr.co/m_e-al6PrPUnnDlVoVFN47w)

 

Crassus was sitting on the couch when Mav finally made it back to the safe house a few days after that explosion in the bar. The giant Invictian had his Raptor rifle in pieces on the low coffee table and was meticulously cleaning each one.“Welcome back,” He said with oblique harmonics and that in itself told Mav the kind of mood he was in. Crassus had always been expressive with his voice but for when he was feeling depressed, then his voice was always empty of every emotion, or he was just trying to hide them all.

Mav shut the door behind him and walked over with his hands out in plain view; the picture of nonthreatening. “How’s it going?” He asked nonchalantly.

“It’s going.” Tones just as empty but underlined with tension. “Did you want something Mavic?”

“A change of clothes and to talk.”

Crassus set one piece down and picked up another. “If it’s about your little plaything… I’m not interested.”

His mandibles flicked once and then stilled. “His name’s Razek and he’s more than-”

“I don’t care.”

“I don’t care that you don’t care.” Mav shot back. “Will you look at me when I talk to you?”

The Invictian glanced up and the pale grey skin around his eyes was puffed and swollen. He’d been crying. Mav wondered if he’d been crying this entire time, Crassus had certainly been drinking, he could smell that from here. Three days. He was getting bad. The knowledge pulled at Mav’s heart but not his resolve and Crassus looked away again as if he knew what he was thinking and as long as they’d been friends, that actually wouldn’t have surprised him.

“Look, I’m just gonna come out and say it and you’re just gonna listen.” He sighed, took a breath, steeled himself because he couldn’t dance around this issue with his handler anymore. “I don’t love you and I haven’t for years. I love Razek. I’m in love with him, I don’t care how young he is or how much younger than me he is. I don’t care what he’s done or what he will do. I love him.”

Crassus was staring at him now and there were fresh tears falling and damn it all if that didn’t make Mav feel like a total bastard. He shook the feeling off, had to, needed to. But the way the Invictian was looking at him made him wish he could just say,  _yeah that was a bad joke I’m sorry_ and move on from this like it had never happened.

“Mavic, I-” The larger turian began but he held up a hand to stop him.

“No. Okay, no. No confessions from you, I can’t handle that.”

“ _You_  can’t handle that?” Crassus exclaimed and suddenly he was on his feet and towering over him. “Mavic I’ve loved you for years. You’re the only one I’ve even been with for the past decade! You! And now- now this  _child_  comes along and he’s everything you want and you’re just going to throw me away like I’m nothing?”

“He’s not a child, he’s sixteen, an adult. And you’re not nothing, Crassus.” He said.

“What am I then?” He demanded, moving closer, really towering over him now, Mav had to crane his neck to meet those green eyes. “Your fuck buddy?”

“No. That’s done. We’re not sleeping together anymore.”

Crassus stared at him with slack mandibles. “Am… Am I even your friend, Mavic? Or is that done too?”

Looking at Crassus, the hurt and the betrayal and the anger on his face, Mav wondered. “You tell me Crassus. Can you be just my friend?”

The Invictian looked at him a long time before shaking his head. “I’ll… I’ll wait. You’ll get bored of him like you do everyone else and I still be here and you can have me again.”

“I’m not going to get bored of him; I mated him!” Mav screamed in his face, appalled at the idea for more than one reason.

Again Crassus just stared, mouth moving like he was trying to find words and failing. Mav decided to show him, unzipping the top half of his shirt and baring the marks from Razek’s teeth. Crassus made a sound like he’d been gut-punched and then kicked in the plates. And then his hand was on Mav’s throat, tracing over the marks, fingers shaking.

“He…he… He hurt you. Did he force you to do this?”

Mav shoved him away. “No! Why would you even-?!” But one look at Crassus’ face and he knew. The man just couldn’t accept it. He’d thought Crassus’ feelings for him were just infatuation, he hadn’t realized it was bordering closer to obsession. “I wanted him to. Do you understand me Crassus? I wanted Razek to put his mark on me.”

One immensely large hand was sliding over his hip to his upper thigh, touching scars under the cloth of his pants and he shuddered with something like revulsion. “I marked you first.” He said quietly, full of meaning. “And you marked me.”

“Not where it matters.” Mav snapped, slapping his hand away and stepping out of his reach.

“Not where it matters.” The Invictian repeated and there was something in his voice that scared Mav. Later, he’d realize he should have acted on it then. But now…

Crassus was abruptly back in range and his hand yanked back Mav’s fringe while his other pushed his chest and one foot took both of his out from under him. Mav landed hard without the ability to stop his fall and Crassus slammed down on his chest, pinning him to the floor with his knees on his legs and his full weight behind them.

“Get off!”

Mav, despite all his training and know-how, simply wasn’t big enough to force the seven-five tall, three-hundred pound turian off of him. He could do little more than struggle as his handler pulled his head farther back and bared the new scar Razek had given him. Mav couldn’t do more than shove at his chest and scream in pain as Crassus bit into it, destroying it and remaking the mark as his own. He went stiff all over, muscles locking up in pain and shock as his closest friend, the person he’d trusted the most in his life, one of the very few people he had loved, took away the symbol that said he belonged to someone else.

Eventually Crassus’ teeth left his throat and he rose off of Mav’s chest, hands opening his shirt before moving down to his pants. “You’re mine. Only mine.” The Invictian pushed his legs apart and Mav couldn’t allow what he suddenly knew Crassus was going to do to him. What he knew he couldn’t stop the man from doing unless-

His omniblade whirred in warning as it flared into existence at the end of his wrist. Muscle memory kept Mav from thinking and he shoved the blade into his handler’s chest. Blood, hot and sticky, flowed over his hand and Crassus stared at him in surprise as his hands came up and covered the wound. The omniblade hummed and faded, more blood flowed. Mav scrambled out from under him, getting up to his knees and taking hold of Crassus’ shoulders to lower him to the ground.

“I’m sorry.” Mav told him, pulling his hands away from the damage and holding them so that he bled freely. “You didn’t give me a choice but I’m sorry.”

Crassus’ eyes rolled, fluttered once, locked on him. “When I first saw you I knew you’d kill me someday.” His voice was weak but then… it was a lot of blood. “But I still love you.”

“No you don’t. You never did Crassus. You just wanted-” But there was no point in finishing. Mav kissed his foreplate, stood up and went to wash his hands. 


	12. Bad Behavior of the Worst Kind: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for murder, violence and a mention of rape. Crassus takes the law into his own hands to take out the trash after speaking with Mavic's father.

When the call had come in early that morning, Crassus had stared at it a moment before answering. The I.D. said Virim and he’d hoped, spirits he’d hoped so much… A year since he’d left Mavic behind and every day he looked at his omnitool and tried to talk himself out of calling. Every day he succeeded.

It wasn’t Mavic. Wrong Virim. It was Orick and he’d wanted a favor. A big favor.

“I can be on the Citadel tomorrow. He… he can’t know I’m there Orick. I’m sorry but he can’t know.”

The elder Virim rubbed at his tired face, eyes that were sunken and dark, dull. “He’s still in the hospital. The doctor said she’d let him out for the court date but only as long as it takes him to testify and then he’ll be going back…. You’ll do this for me, boy?”

“Yes sir. Of course.” Crassus said without hesitation. “Give me a day to get there and another to set up. After that it won’t take me long to-”

“Don’t say it. I can’t believe I’m asking you to do this.”

“Any father would.” His own wouldn’t but that was beside the point. 

The way Orick looked at him reminded him so much of the looks Mavic gave him and Crassus found his chest hurting in regret. If he’d stayed, this wouldn’t have happened. Mavic would never have gone looking for company and gotten himself in such a mess. 

“You’re a good young man, Crassus, thank you for this. For… caring about my son the way you do.”

Crassus had nodded and cut the call. There were a lot of preparations to make.

…

Watching through his scope as the two men were led out in front of C-Sec, he was relieved they were so poorly guarded. Four C-Sec agents in total, two apiece. It was easy to keep them out of the line of fire, especially with the way the two humans stood chest-to-back between them. Crassus took a slow deep breath and allowed his finger to caress the trigger lightly. In his head, he accounted for human reactions times and those of the turian officers. He thought of the mind’s delay when surprised that transcended species. Crassus would need two shots, ideally made in no more than three seconds. He could do it, he’d done it before.

A second caress of the trigger and a squeeze.

He’d only needed one shot. The kind of shot blessed and guided by the Spirits. A one-in-a-trillion shot accompanied by sprays of bright red and outright panic. Crassus crawled backwards out of his perch, folding up the rifle as he went. He would have liked to visit Mavic in the hospital but any longer on the Citadel and he would be facing his own visit with a C-Sec court room.


	13. Found You: Orick Virim drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ties in partially to the drabble where Mavic murders Crassus, it was the same verse anyway.

(So tagging [razekpraxis](http://tmblr.co/m_e-al6PrPUnnDlVoVFN47w) and [gokattea](http://tmblr.co/mdn0-PeJ9Vwr7rGff7JsoFw) since this came around thanks to both of you. And per usual, under the thing for length.

“I would like to see my son.“ The aging turian said, leaning with both hands on his cane as Grizz looked to Bray and Bray looked back at him. The batarian shrugged.

“Sir, I’m afraid he’s otherwise engaged and you’ll just have to-”

“Excuse me?” The tall Carthaan born man demanded in that tone routinely used by generals. Grizz’s spine straightened in hardwired response. “I want to see that boy now.”

_Boy?_  He wondered to himself, no one in their right mind would call Mav a boy, not after that thing he’d done with the batarian a few months ago. “Um-”

“Dad!” Mav called out, running from the entrance of Afterlife, buttoning his shirt along the way. Bray rolled his eyes a bit. As much as their new head of security and their ‘king’ fucked, it was a surprise anything of importance got done on Omega. “Dad, spirits, you’re here. I thought-”

He shut up as the old turian pulled him into a crushing hug, squeezing tightly enough that they both heard Mav gasp for air even as he hugged back. They were all getting stares. The small turian and his father, Bray and Grizz. It was well known by now that touching Razek’s mate in any way landed the offender out one of the airlocks at best but this situation had never come up.

“Gentlemen,” Bray said, addressing them quietly. “We should move this inside….”

“In a minute here, just wait a minute.” Mav snapped even as he purred, letting the older turian hug him and then push him back, looking at him.

“You’re alive. Spirits boy, you’re alive!” Orick pulled his son into another strangle hold of a hug. “I… Where’s your paint?”

“Now we can take it inside.”

…

Mav sat his father down in one of the secret -formerly secret anyway- back rooms and scooted a chair to sit in front of him, close enough to touch if the man wanted. He hadn’t seen his father in so long and he’d worried, spirits he’d worried about him being alone now. And Mav still worried. This thing right here? It could go a hundred different ways.

“Are you going to answer me?” The man finally asked him, apparently caught off guard by the new splendor of Afterlife to speak along the way. “What happened to your paint? And-” He gestured. “your neck?”

He opened his mouth to tell him, or rather explain in limited detail, all that happened when his father held up his hand and his mouth snapped shut instead. He swallowed, Orick had never been a violent man of any kind, but he’d always had a tone, an air about him that had made Mav obey him no matter what. A command presence, and Orick Virim had it in spades when he wanted to use it. 

“Mavic Linnaeus Virim… I can’t decide if I want to whip your rear end or hug you until your head pops off. A year! A year with no word from you whatsoever. A year thinking you were missing with your commanders telling me you were more than likely dead. And now, I find you here. Omega of all places!” Orick ranted on for a good few minutes and Mav let him, he obviously needed it out of his system, but damn it all if it didn’t make him feel like he was ten years old again, getting scolded for  _borrowing_  the car. “… What are you doing here? Is this some undercover assignment? What about Crassus? What happened to him? Were you hurt too?” His father’s eyes slid to the heavily scarred side of his neck. “Have you been hiding here to recover?”

Mav ran his hands over his face and fringe. “I’m sorry dad.” He said with soft sincerity. “I… it’s a long and complicated story. I had to wash my colony paint off to blend in here, I mean… I didn’t want anyone here knowing where I came from and finding you so… I miss it but I know it was the right thing to do and…”

He couldn’t look at his dad, instead letting his eyes focus down on his feet for a few minutes. He couldn’t tell Orick what Crass had done, he couldn’t. The Invictian had been family for a time, with Mav’s mother jokingly calling them both her sons and Orick laughing and nodding along with the idea…. He didn’t want to ruin that. So he lied. 

“Crass and I were here on assignment and we got into it bad with one of the gangs. He… he was killed and I was really, really badly fu- wounded. I did very nearly die dad, I’m sorry, but I did and Razek…” Spirits how to explain that? “He’s the… well he runs Omega now. But he found me and helped me get better again and I… I fell in love with him so… so I stayed.” He glanced up at his dad to see how he was taking all this but the man’s face was expressionless. “And after a while I didn’t want to go back to the Blackwatch but I’d been gone so long by then that I knew if I tried to contact them I’d be… well, it would be bad. I mean, my partner had been killed, I’m probably still the main suspect and I just don’t want to be hanged for a…. for something I didn’t do or for staying with my mate here… and I know that’s bad but… Dad. I’m sorry but I can’t…. I won’t leave here. Razek can’t and I’m not leaving him. I… I have to stay…”

Fuck, was he crying? Mav put a hand to his face again and found he was. He hastily wiped the tears away as his dad pulled him into another hug.

“It’s not your fault, what happened to Crassus.” Orick began and Mav nodded because he had to. It was his fault, but his dad didn’t need to know that. “I’m sure you did all you could…. I’m still pissed off at you boy. You may not have wanted to involve the Blackwatch and I can understand that, but it’s no excuse not to let me know where you are and that you’re safe.”

“I’m sorry,” He sobbed against his dad’s chest, clinging to his shirt. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to keep you out of it, I needed to keep you safe dad…”

“Quiet.” He ordered and Mav did. “I’m not going to make you get in contact with them. You’re right, as long as it’s been… you’re not missing Mavic, you’re a deserter and I’m not going to let them hang my son.” His voice was firm, full of conviction and Mav felt better, just all around better having him here. “There’s still one thing you need to take care of.”

“Yeah?”

“This mate of yours, Razek, you understand I have to meet him. See if he’s the right match for my son.” 


	14. Howl: Evil Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went through a bit where I was writing drabble to music. I'm not fond of the song-fic in general but they can be good. Prepare for a bunch of those incoming. This one's got some violence, blood and gore in it.

[razekpraxis](http://tmblr.co/m_e-al6PrPUnnDlVoVFN47w) _ Your drabble, good sir

__**If you could only see  
** The beast you made of me  
I held it in but now it seems you’ve set it running free  
Screaming in the dark, I howl when we’re apart  
Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart 

The omniblade thrummed, flaring to life at the inside of his wrist. Mav twisted and dropped to one knee, striking out at the first attacker, catching the backside of his knee and tearing into the tendon. The krogan screamed in fury and Mav knew the action had only bought him a moment. Two if the Spirits were feeling generous. Then again, krogans with their backup secondary and tertiary organs and veins and shit… Mav gritted his teeth and drew his mandibles in.

__**Now there’s no holding back  
** I’m making to attack  
My blood is singing with your voice I want to pour it out  
The saints can’t help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground 

He really needed to start carrying something with more bite than just his Brawler pistol. Even if he emptied the clip a couple of times at point blank he’d still be pushing it. He’d have to get creative…. A vorcha struck him down and Mav rolled with it, coming up fast and lashing out with both omniblade and talons. He was small but he was strong with years of practice. The vorcha ended up headless- or near to it- and he ended up covered in reddish orange blood that already smelled like rot. He’d have gagged if he hadn’t been doing this shit for so long but he still swallowed hard and snarled. The blood on the ground was slick and slipping in it actually saved his life as that krogan got back up, swinging a big fist at his head the moment Mav’s feet went out from under him. Not much of a fall, more a stumble but it was enough. The wide swinging haymaker missed his fringe by inches, he felt the rush of air though and he laughed in the krogan’s face. The Brawler came up before Mav did; aimed, loaded and ready. He smirked as he squeezed the trigger and kept the pressure on. He had to reload twice just like he’d planned on but that was fine. Shoving his omniblade into the brute’s mess of a skull with just for extra measure and Mav could admit it was beyond satisfying too, the crunch and squelch and squish of brain matter.

__**The fabric of your flesh  
** Pure as a wedding dress  
Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest  
The saints can’t help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground 

Mav stood, omniblade dissolving, fading away, the Brawler going back into the holster at his right hip. He cracked his back once, stretched his arms above his head until he felt his shoulders joints creak and protest before popping too. He checked his watch. Late. Again. Razek would mind that but he wouldn’t give a damn about the blood covering him. Not that Mav did either, in fact he thought it added a bit of roguish character, a secondary air of danger and excitement. He’d get over the Bloodpack smell eventually.

__**Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers  
** Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters  
A man who’s pure of heart and says his prayers by night  
May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright 

Afterlife was crowded, it always was, except for that private little area Razek inhabited with the long, comfy winding couches and settee’s. His mate was curled against the arm of one, Grizz and Bray standing to either side of him. The turian smirking and the batarian looking bored, default expressions he’d come to realized over the last year.  Mav grinned at all three of them, feeling elated above all else under his mate’s purple gaze.

“Sorry I’m late,” He purred, bending at the waist and sweeping his arms out in a flourish of a bow. He winked at Razek, that purr of his promising he wouldn’t be late with other more important things.


	15. Long and Lost: Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We played a little with Stockholm syndrome but the verse never really went anywhere. I still got a good drabble out of it.

[auguscusacilcolus](http://tmblr.co/mNTysxOOuv1eMXLylLgMPzA)

 

__**Lost in the fog  
These hollow hills  
Blood running hot  
Night chills  
Without your love  
I’ll be  
Song long and lost  
Are you missing me**

Mavic couldn’t see Augus but that didn’t mean the man wasn’t there. The small turian highly doubted the man would just drop him on the Citadel and leave. But his father was there, wrapping his arms around Mavic and hugging him tightly, promising him things would be fine as a C-Sec officer closed a hand around his upper arm and pulled them apart. It had been a year, one in which he’d left with no foreword, simply at his station with Spectre Requisitions one day and then gone the next with no word to anyone. Of course C-Sec and the Executor had questions. And Mavic would try to answer them as truthfully as Augus had trained him to. The new truth, a lie for them but the only thing he could say.

__**Is it too late  
To come on home  
Are all those bridges  
Now old stone  
Is it too late  
To come on home  
Can the city forgive  
I hear its sad song**

He’d been working on the story for a year and the words fell from his mouth naturally. Mavic told them he’d been hired out under the table by a private contractor that, yes, still wished to remain private, and sorry, but he’d given his word and he wasn’t going to break it. The small turian told them he’d worked as a glorified mechanic in exchange for the funds to get his prototype off the design table. A prototype, he explained, he planned to equip both C-Sec and the Spectres with once the manufacturing was done, and yes that was underway now. He had everything he needed now to do so. And, he explained, he was sorry for leaving so suddenly and sorry for the undue missing person’s report his father had filed. He was perfectly fine as they could see. The stiff left hand with the brace around the wrist? Well, he’d broken that falling from ductwork inside a frigate while he was away. An accident, he told them, and it was the truth now as far as he was concerned anyway. The memory of the meat hammer coming down again and again was just a bad dream in his mind. He’d broken it in a fall and that was that.

__**I need the clouds  
To cover me  
Pulling them down  
Surround me  
Without you love  
I’ll be  
So long and lost  
Are you missing me**

C-Sec and the Executor reinstated him with Requisitions on the grounds he move into a closer apartment with better security, they were still suspicious about his leaving of course, and that his father move in with him. Mavic and Orick had both agreed. The elder Virim had missed his son and the younger didn’t want to be alone. For weeks all was normal. Mavic got back in the swing of things with his work, back to the thing he loved doing most, but there was a hollowness to him that he couldn’t explain. A sense of something absent that no matter how much he looked, he couldn’t find the cause. He missed Augus, thought about him daily but then, that wasn’t the reason he felt so incomplete, he’d lived with the man a year, of course adjusting without him was difficult.  Mavic made it through, he had to.

__**It’s been so long  
Between the words we spoke  
Will you be there  
Up on the shore I hope  
You wonder why  
It is that I came home  
I figured out  
Where I belong**

Another day passed and then another. Then another and again and again. Mavic never seemed to shake away that feeling of something absent, something that should be there and wasn’t. He tried calling Augus a few times, just to hear his voice, to talk to him, check in, but he never got an answer. It was much the same way it had been with Crassus years ago. Eventually he stopped trying. Augus would make it back to the Citadel at some point and then… Mavic didn’t know what, but he was sure he’d know if he ever saw the man again.  

__**But it’s too late  
To come on home  
Are all those bridges  
Now old stone  
But it’s too late  
To come on home  
Can the city forgive  
I hear its sad song**

Mavic sighed, setting up the programs that ran the last few security checks before he locked up for the night and started sweeping around his desk. Three months. Not that long in the grand scheme of things but… He sighed again. Maybe it was time to stop dwelling on it, dad said he needed to move on. An easy thing to say considering he didn’t know all the details. Then again, he’d probably still be saying it. The small chime above the door tinkled and Mavic glanced up, ready to let the visitor know he was closing for the night but he’d happily make an appointment for the morning, when he stopped. The shadow cast over the floor was huge, even for the way the light liked to play tricks and his plating tingled at the back of his neck, his mandibles drawing in tight without him telling them to. Mavic finished straightening as he looked at the visitor, his mind played him a video. One of a little girl and a father not unlike his own killed in their home, and a turian, unrecognizable through his armor but so tall and big he’d be hard to mistake. Mavic swallowed hard and heard his heart begin to race in his ears.


	16. Rabbit Heart: Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a little verse where Mavic technically died and was brought back on one condition. Distantly inspired by "On a Pale Horse" by Piers Anthony.

[v-arte](http://tmblr.co/mgVJrwNK0Gj4GW8bMbUR4OA)

  
__**The looking glass  
So shiny and new  
How quickly the glamor fades  
I start spinning slipping out of time  
Was that the wrong pill to take  
You made a deal  
And now you have to offer up  
But will it ever be enough  
It’s not enough**

Mavic felt the pull somewhere at the center of his stomach and back near the base of his spine. It was hard to describe, something between a gentle grasp and a forceful tug. But it was, first and foremost, insistent. Enough so that he closed up shop a full two hours early, rushing through his security checks while still managing to be thorough. Yet another lesson he’d come about the hard way.

__**Here I am  
A rabbit hearted girl  
Frozen in the headlights  
It seems I’ve made  
The final sacrifice  
We raise it up  
This offering  
We raise it up**

He did the smart thing and called V’Arte, doing his best to describe the feeling and what he thought it meant, that he was going to follow it and find out. He’d linked his mate with his omnitool, giving the man the ability to follow him but then he’d taken off at a mad sprint, following that feeling in his gut that got stronger with every step toward the lower wards with every winding and curving alleyway. It wasn’t long before he was as deep in the wards as he’d ever been, in a district the Keepers were still rebuilding even years after the geth had attacked and been defeated. The pull was strongest here, a throttle to his system and then he found her.

__**This is a gift  
It comes with a price  
Who is the lamb  
And who is the knife  
Midas is king  
And he holds me so tight  
And turns me to gold  
In the sunlight**

She was turian and barefaced, maybe ten, a ductrat from the looks of her clothing and just this side of too big for the vents. Mavic reckoned that had been the cause of her fall. The little girl called out to him and he rushed to her side, falling to his knees next to her, soothing harmonics leaving his throat, tight with his own dismay. The pull in his stomach, the need to follow it had guided him to the dying girl. V’Arte’s goddess- his too now, the more he thought about it- had given him this gift in return for his longer life, a life in service of her in which he’d do this one thing. A thing he hadn’t yet learned how to do, V’Arte said he was still too weak in those matters to attempt it, his service hadn’t technically started yet either and there were still limitations to be had. And looking at the dying girl, a girl he didn’t have the power or the knowledge to help as much as he wanted to, his own recent gifts didn’t feel like much of anything.

__**And in the spring  
I shed my skin  
And it blows away  
With the changing winds  
The waters turn  
From blue to red  
As to the sky  
I offer it**

Mavic held her hand while he waited for V’Arte to find them and he told the girl that the Spirits had sent him. And  then he told her about Kalahira, the drell goddess of oceans and afterlife. He painted for her a  story of the goddess that had appeared to him as turian perfection, her robes those of the old Valuvian priests and how they’d shimmered between Palaven blue, Taetrus red, Invictus purple, Carthaan orange and the silver of the Citadel. Then he told the girl how gentle and kind the goddess had been as he’d laid dying in his mate’s arms, how he’d been so afraid and how Kalahira had soothed him. Mavic talked until he was left making things up, simply platitudes and assurances to ease the child… and himself. When V’Arte arrived and freed her spirit, Mavic leaned against him and cried, still holding the girl’s hand in his. 


	17. Queen of Peace: Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This other rp'er is brilliant. I could never keep so many characters in my head. Mavic had the luck to fall for one of them

[thecryingstarcrew](http://tmblr.co/m5Ua9RNVnRgkaVawomgSS2A)

__**Oh the king  
Gone mad with his suffering  
Called out for relief  
Someone cure him of his grief  
His only son  
Cut down but the battle won  
Oh what is it worth  
When all that’s left is hurt**

He was really beginning to like being on the Crying Star and spending time with her crew.  Atrius wasn’t too far off from his dad in behavior although Mavic still had a hard time figuring out what he was saying through his accent, he managed when the man spoke slowly enough to him. Ilulius was a goof, just straight up goof ball but he liked the kid even though there was a little something just off about him. Marius was…well Mavic had never seen another turian with so many tattoos before. He’d seen full-body colony markings and those were hot, sure, but Marius was his own damned work of art. Not that Mavic would say that aloud. The batarian twins were… they were alright, he guessed, he probably needed to spend a little time with them to get to know them better. The cook… Mavic had learned his lesson about commenting on spices and their freshness- and his own tricks to keeping them fresh- the first time he’d been whacked with a spoon. Desora was probably a little more like her dad than she’d be comfortable knowing and Mavic wasn’t comfortable talking about a man he’d slept with a handful of times to his daughter.  He’d only spoken to Zal’s sister once and that hadn’t gone well so he gave her space. And finally Blue the geth was certainly thought provoking and Mavic liked talking to them. But Zal was still his favorite, for a number of reasons.

__**Like the stars chase the sun  
Over the glowing hills  
I will conquer  
Blood is running deep  
Some things never sleep**

A lot of reasons. Behind closed door reasons. He grinned to himself, hands in his pockets and a little pep to his step as he walked through the ship to the medbay. His grin got a little bigger the closer he got, his steps a little quicker. Mavic was anxious- in the good way- to see his lover. He’d been working on something in his spare time, a lot less of it lately since he’d met Zal but that was okay, he just…. He just hoped Zal liked it.

__**Suddenly I’m overcome  
Dissolving like the setting sun  
Like a boat into oblivion  
‘Cause you’re driving me away  
Now you have me on the run  
The damage is already done  
Come on is this what you want  
‘Cause you’re driving me away**

It wasn’t really all that much. He hadn’t even built it, he’d bought it after more than a week of searching the extranet for what he’d had in mind, a faded memory of something he’d seen in an old vid years ago. The memory jogged by something similar- thought modern- he’d seen on Zal’s worktable. He held the box in one hand, close to his body so that he didn’t drop it. It kind of ruined the surprise if the gift was messed up, even if it was only the package that was dented. Mavic kept in mind the amount of money he’d paid for it, for that price he was going to keep it pristine. After he gave it to Zal, his lover could do what he wanted with it.

__**Oh the queen of peace  
Always does her best to please  
Is it any use  
Someone’s gotta lose  
Like a long scream  
Out there  
Always echoing  
Oh what is it worth  
All that’s left is hurt**

Any other day, he’d knock on the medbay door, but that anxious energy had him pushing it open without waiting, his grin a full smile as he spotted Zal. Mavic greeted him with purring tones, all excitement and affection and held the box out. It was half the length of his forearm and tied together with a small tasteful ribbon the color of both their eyes. “I-I-I got you something,” He stammered, so excited and nervous he couldn’t be as smooth as his usual. “It’s just… I saw it and thought of you so… I hope you can use it but if not I’m sure it will look cool.” When the box opened, it revealed a scalpel, newly and perfectly sharpened, a little plastic protector covering the edge. “Do uh, do you like it?”


	18. Hardest of Hearts: Mavic and Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Applicable to every universe. This is canon. Timeline is one year after Crassus and Mavic met and a few months into their relationship.

**_There is love in your body but you can’t hold it in  
_ **

**_It pours from your eyes and spills from your skin_ **

**_Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks_ **

**_And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts_ **

 Crassus moaned a little louder but it was still a soft sound. Soft enough that he could easily hear Mavic chuckling from between his legs. He made some smart-assed comment and the larger turian grasped his fringe, pushing his head back down. Mavic purred and the vibration had Crassus arching with a louder moan.

**_There is love in your body but you can’t get it out_ **

**_It gets stuck in your head won’t come out of your mouth_ **

**_Sticks to your tongue and shows on your face_ **

**_That the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste_ **

 The smaller turian went back to tonguing his hole while Crassus kept his grip on his fringe. It wasn’t until he started praising the spirits for the skill of Mavic’s tongue that the tiny Carthaan born turian with the Palaven sun eyes began trying to slip a finger into him. He’d never been penetrated before, had never wanted to be but the way Mavic had looked at him when he’d asked if it was okay…. Crassus moaned long and loud this time at feeling himself stretched open.

**_Darling heart I loved you from the start_ **

**_But you’ll never know what a fool I’ve been_ **

**_Darling heart I loved you from the start_ **

**_But that’s no excuse for the state I’m in_ **

 He was very nearly a whimpering, begging mess by the time Mavic took mercy on him and climbed up his body. Crassus’ previously wide-spread legs closing around him, soaking up his warmth, he’d gotten cold with the smaller man so far away and making all his warmth pool low in his body. He tensed at the first light push, so different, so much thicker than the two slender fingers, and Mavic soothed him, kissing and nuzzling his chest. Crassus pulled him up and kissed his mouth like a drowning man desperate for air. The smaller turian inched inside him, a long process that eventually ended with them pressed together up to their plating, Crassus’ cock caught between their bodies, slick with fluid and aching. Mavic kissed him and tucked his face against his throat before beginning to move.

  ** _There is love in our bodies and it holds us together_**

**_But pulls us apart when we’re holding each other_ **

**_We all want something to hold in the night_ **

**_We don’t care if it hurts or we’re holding too tight_ **

 Afterwards, Mavic lay beneath him, his hand sliding over Crassus’ fringe on his lower chest, their legs tangled together while they both purred and nuzzled at each other.


	19. The Drell: Mob Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From my verse with another rp'er. Mavic manages to get himself stuck on Illium in a situation he can't get out of. Warnings for mentions of rape, murder, torture and sexual abuse.

“So how do you like your new contract?” The drell hissed in Mavic’s ear. He’d come up from behind, a hand wrapping tight around his throat and a gun shoved against his side.

Mavic froze, a growl vibrating through his chest.  He let the bag of groceries drop. “I haven’t had time to read it.”

“I’ll give you the highlights.” The drell marched him forward, pinned him to an alley wall. “One: Your pay was cut a third. Two: No more off days. Three: Fifteen years of service. Four:  _I_ own you now. Five: And this one’s my favorite. I can have you anywhere I want, any time, any way, and you can’t say no.”

The short turian swallowed hard, pushed down the dread in his stomach that was quickly turning to bile.

“There’s more, of course.” The drell said, that gun leaving his side, being put away. “You’ll take on regular assassinations of whoever the boss wants. Things like that. Oh, and no more horosk. Not that you’ll be able to afford it on that new salary.”

Mavic ground his teeth together, started to turn. He owed the drell for what had been done to Velox. Not that he got a chance. A fist connected with his jaw and sent him spinning back around, that hand closing his windpipe long enough that he was gasping when it released.

“But I thought… I thought I’d take advantage of that new clause.” The drell said sing-song. “You know, the one that says I can have you wherever whenever.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Mavic demanded, that growl leaving his chest and full-on in his tones.

“Or I could go have some fun with the boy. Up to you.”

“You touch him again and I’ll-”

“Oh I haven’t touched him yet. I want to.” The drell said. “Though I bet he’s not near as tight as when you had him, not after a night in  _that_  bedroom. You know the one.”

Mavic stilled, predator senses ticking online in his head. The drell was behind him. Elbow to the face. Drop, sweep out his legs. The talons of his left hand were still sharpened. Perfect for ripping out a throat or disemboweling. The drell didn’t wear armor of any kind, not even a kinetic barrier. He could do it in less than thirty seconds.

“Though, I guess, if I fuck him dry, he’ll be plenty tight. For a little while, till he starts to ble-”

The short turian sent his elbow back hard, letting his center drop, preparing to go on the ground and bring one of his legs around in an arc and just- The drell dunked under his strike, punching him in the gut and then catching him with an uppercut when he’d started to double over. Mavic fell on his back. He’d known the drell was fast, strong, but that had been a surprise, and before he could get up, the drell was astride his chest, pinning his hands down.

“That was the dumbest thing you’ve done in a while, Mavic. Almost as bad as the bottle you broke over my head. Though my second tells me it was pretty funny to watch.”

“It was fun to do.” Mavic sneered at him.

“So’s this.” The drell’s smirk was cruel as he forced Mavic onto his stomach.


	20. A Father's Love: Orick Drabble, Mob Mavic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In that same verse, Mavic's in a bad place. His father loves him anyway. Warnings for mention of attempted suicide.

The Captain of the Talonstriker had sent a shuttle for him, even paid for and okayed a number of permits to allow a civilian on his ship for the stretch of time he was going to stay. Orick was grateful, he just wished for different circumstances. His son… by the Spirits, his son…

“Navius went for physical therapy,” The Captain said. “You’ll have about a half hour before he returns. If you need longer, I can delay-”

“No. I should speak to the other boy too.” Orick said in that tone he’d used when still held any kind of rank.

The Captain stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “What happened, mister Virim, is  _not_  Navius’ fault.”

“I didn’t say it was.” He smoothed over. “Now, please. I’d like to see my son.”

The Captain didn’t seem all that pleased with his answer, but he continued on to the medbay while Orick remembered how to breathe. “Sativum, you have a visitor.”

It was still strange, after all these years, to hear his son referred to by that name. With those bright Palaven sun eyes of his, Mavic would always be a Virim; through and through. Even though, for a time, he’d worn the purple stripes of Invictus on his face to match his mate.

“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t want to see anyone right now.”

“I’m not giving you a choice, Mavi boy.” Orick said from behind the man.

Mavic sat up then and he saw what his son had done to himself. The bandage wrapped fully around his neck, the gauze heavier on one side, thicker, where his mate’s claim had resided. By the Spirits his son had cut open his own throat. Had tried to-

“Dad?” He sounded like a little boy again, tones light, hopeful, but scared. “Dad? What… what are you doing here?”

Orick didn’t notice the Captain picking that moment to leave them alone, the few nurses that had been in the room leaving as well. All he saw was his son. In a medbay bed, too pale, too thin and downright tired looking. He looked ill and so very small. For a moment, Orick saw his son as he had been many, many years ago. A newborn in his mother’s arms. Tiny limbs and huge eyes. Frail. In need of his protection. Orick crossed the room in a single stride. And hugged his son.

Mavic froze at first, still in shock at seeing him, but slowly his arms wound around his father too and his head came to rest on his shoulder. “Dad…”

Orick squeezed his boy tighter, made a mournful sound low in his throat. In his head again, Mavic was a child, afraid of the dark and clinging to him after a nightmare. Crying about the Wanderer  that had tried to pull him under the bed. Orick remembered his boy begging for any kind of solace, any kind of safety. A motion sensitive nightlight on a ten minute timer. That was the safety he’d given his son. He still had it in a box at home. As he’d gotten older, Mavic had hung it from his ceiling.

“Dad, say something. Please.” Mavic’s voice was shaky and Orick could feel his heart racing through his chest.

“I don’t know what I’ve had done if you-”

“I’m sorry. Dad, I’m so sorry.” His boy said in a rush, pushing Orick back. His eyes were just like his mother’s; muted fire. Full of sadness, just like those last days.

“You tell me why.” He demanded, taking his son’s shoulders and giving him a firm shake. “ _Why_ , Mavi boy. Why would you try to…” He couldn’t get the words out.

His mandibles quaked against his jaw and Orick knew that expression; he was trying not to cry. Not to break. Orick shook him again.

“All the pain you mother went through, the years of therapy and treatments and drugs and she never  _once_  thought about ending her own life.” He remembered her, fragile and weak and sick and how he’d wanted to take her pain onto himself, how he’d wanted to take away her suffering for her. How Desya had been adamant that she’d live and fight until the sickness dragged her Spirit out with her last breath. Orick remembered how he’d begged the Spirits to spare her the pain, and how they’d answered him early one morning. “So you tell me  _why_.”

Mavic’s eyes grew wet. “Cuz… cuz I’d already lost one mate.” He shook his head, heaved a sigh. “I let… wanting to what happed to Crass… it kept me going cuz I had to… I had to make them pay. The folks that sent him away, the folks that murdered him… I had to make them pay. But Velox…” Now that wetness overflowed and his colony paint began to run as well. “I sent him away. I thought I’d murdered him.”

He knew where his son was going with this and he couldn’t allow it. “Mavi, no-”

“It was my plan! My recommendation for the best pilots! My prototype on the ship! Me! I thought… Dad, I thought I’d murdered him and I couldn’t… I couldn’t live with myself.”

“You’d have left me all alone.” Orick said, trying to keep the accusation and the  _hurt_  out of his subharmonics but he knew it was still there. “No mate, no child…” It was agonizing to think about not having either of them.

“I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry. Dad y’know that.” His tones were pleading.  _Tell me you know_.

“I know.” He said, though he didn’t. “But that doesn’t excuse-”

“Did the Captain tell you what I did?” Mavic asked suddenly. “Did he tell you I broke the jaw of one crewmate and nearly took the mandible off another? Or that I pretty much destroyed the simulation room’s console? And that was  _before_  I thought Velox was… Spirits dad. Y’know Cap’s gonna kick me off the ship. Y’know he has to. Not that anyone but Velox even wanted me here to begin with. Dad… do you know what they say about me here? About Velox?”

Orick was silent, letting his son get it all off his chest, it was obvious that Mavic needed that, and he didn’t know.

“They say I kidnapped him on Ilium.” Mavic continued, eyes fire bright with indignation and something like shame. “They say I raped him and hurt him and that I brainwashed him. They still call me a traitor, even after the Hierarchy started calling me a hero. Dad… they tell Velox to leave me.” And here his son’s voice dropped to a whimper and he wiped angrily at his eyes, smearing his paint. “And I thought I’d gotten him killed. I… you can’t tell him dad, you  _can’t_  but I… I was afraid of what they’d say then. When he was gone and I was all that was left and I’d proven… I’d proven I was all they said I was.”

Orick stared at him for a long time, trying to understand what his son had felt and experienced, trying to see his side of things. Mavic didn’t talk about Ilium, other than that was where Crassus had died and where he’d met Velox. But looking at his boy now, hearing his tones and all the words underneath them, Orick understood that for Mavic, Ilium had been a beast of a darker nature than he’d originally thought.

“I know… I know it was weak. I know it was stupid and I know it was the easy way out and I’m sorry. Fuck, I am so sorry.” His boy finally fell quiet, sitting with his knees raised to his chest and his hands gripping them. He looked miserable and his tones radiated sadness and worry. “Say something, please dad.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Fucking anything.”

His mandibles twitched against his face. “You are a selfish little boy.” Orick told him. “But you’re my boy and I love you no matter what…. But if I ever get a call like that again-”

“You won’t, dad. You won’t I promise. I swear to the Spirits, I swear on mom-”

“Stop interrupting me.” He snapped. Then he reached out and pulled Mavic against him. “I can’t forgive this. Not yet. Maybe not ever. You’re my son and you’re the last piece of your mother I have.”

“I know dad. Spirits, she’d be… I don’t even know.”

“It would be bad.” He said in his son’s dry tone.  “She’d find a way to kill you herself.”

“That’s not funny. Velox says I can’t make any more jokes like that.”

The boy in question. The cause and effect. Orick wasn’t sure how he felt about him anymore. “How did he take…?”

“About the same as you. Probably the same way mom would’ve.” Mavic told him. “Dad… I… it’s not important, okay? Just… thanks for being here.”

“It’s not without stipulation, boy.” He said, voice going hard and firm. “Because you’re right. That Captain of yours is going to remove you from this ship, and you should be.”

Mavic dunked his head. He’d fucked up and it was obvious he was aware of it.

“You’re always welcome at home, no matter what you’ve done, you’re always welcome home. But you’re going to see a doctor and you’re going to  _talk_  about all this, about Ilium and everything else. And you’re going to do whatever the doctor says until they say you’re better. That’s nonnegotiable.”

“Yessir.”

“I’m glad we understand each other, Mavi boy.” Orick said.


	21. Compartmentalization: Mob Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another from that verse. Mavic struggles with his mental health. Warnings for mentions of rape and abuse.

Everything in its place and a place for everything. Box upon box upon box. Stacked in his head in neat rows and corners. That was how Mavic made it through life. Emotions here, memories there, fears over here is this box, hopes stuffed down in that one. It got him through the days. So what if a few were overflowing? He’d take care of that in time. Eventually. It was always eventually and it seemed far off. Thoughts of Crassus had a row of boxes all their own and Mavic routinely picked through them, reorganized, moved things into other boxes. It helped pass the time, helped him move on. But he hadn’t had to do it in a while. A long while. It took time and eventually- that word again- he had to stop. The boxes had gotten too heavy, too big and their row was no longer neat. Mavic walked away from them.

Velox had a few boxes, as of yet, still small and a few of them had crossed over into the row meant for hopes. One had fallen and spilled its contents into the row for fears. Mavic had tried to clean it up but the mess had spread from his mind into real life and he’d had to stop. Had cried himself sick before he could. He wanted to go back to the Talonstriker and take the boy away before some fool put him back in the cockpit of a ship and sent him to his death. The thought- uplifting as it was- had been stuffed in the box of dreams, buried at the bottom of another stack.

Mavic had to walk away again. He threw himself into work. Into therapy. The doctor his dad had found was nice, competent and smart. More than he could say for the doctors of the past. He at least understood the room full of boxes in his head when Mavic had mentioned it in passing.  “Open a few of those,” He’d said at the end of one session. “The ones in the back, covered in dust. Or pull some of the ones from the bottom of a stack and just take a look for me. Will you do that before we see each other again?”

So he had. He left boxes with Velox’s name alone for now, steered clear of the ones with Crass’ name. Found one covered in dust. Desya. His mother. Spirits he tried not to think about her. Hence why the box had been hard to find.  Mavic sat in the room of boxes in his head and combed through it, found things he’d forgotten, things he’d lost. No wonder dad had been so broken without her at first, he was better now, of course, but Mavic could understand better why he hadn’t been. He shared what he’d found with his doctor and for the rest of that session they talked about moms, and then parents in general, then a little later, the feelings that drove one person to protect another at all costs.

“I want you to poke around in a few more boxes for me.”

“Which ones?” He’d asked, half enjoying the opportunity that had been so cathartic and half dreading what he’d be told to look into.

“The ones about Ilium.”

Mavic had nodded. The ones about Ilium were sharing stacks with Velox’s and Crass’ boxes. It would take time. He’d cry again. He told the doctor as much.

“That’s why I think you need to. Humor me, Mavic and if you can’t, that’s fine. We’ll look at something else.”

So he had. He spilled contents out onto the floor and threw himself into it. It took days. Days in which his conversations with Velox were mostly one-sided. He listened to the boy talk of his Second, how they were spending more time together and how he still missed him but things were slowly getting easier, slowly returning to normal. Mavic told the boy he was bored, that he missed him, but he’d found a few things to keep himself occupied. Not that he mentioned the boxes. Those were…private. A new box formed in his head. Things he planned to share. Eventually.

His next session with the doctor, Mavic sat in the overstuffed chair like he’d melted into it, legs stretched out, arms crossed over his stomach, head tilted toward his chest, eyes half open. He was tired from looking through the boxes.

“So what did you find?”

His mandibles twitched. “I found…” His mouth was dry. “Nothing I didn’t already know.”

The doctor sighed. “Did you look?”

“Yeah, I did.” He said, annoyance entering his tones.

“Then stop being coy, Mavic. Tell me about Ilium.” The man’s tones said in detail and Mavic found himself relaying every single one. He had to stop a few times, smoke, drink some water, but gradually, he told all. The session ran on an hour longer than it normally did and he hadn’t even gotten to Velox yet. Just talked about Crass, and Holt. “And he’s dead?”

“Very.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No. I wanted to.” Mavic said honestly.

The doctor wrote something down, he didn’t see what.  “And Velox?”

“What about him?”

“Did you know the situation you were going to put him in?”

Mavic stared at the man, mandibles fluttering and then drawing in. He wanted to say no, knew that maybe he should. But after so much time with the boxes… “Yes.”


	22. What's Left: Mob Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That same verse. Things get so much worse before they get better.

Somehow, after the fact, he ended up at the Pit. That soft glow rising out of the hole in the ground in a barely there aurora of light he could see from the open window with the car’s lights still on. Mavic was distantly aware of the car’s tracker beeping and he knew the emergency signal had made it back to the station by now but he didn’t care. He’d just driven; he wasn’t out here to kill himself. That was the kind of thing- Mavic reasoned to himself- that one planned in advance. It didn’t just happen. At least, it hadn’t the last time he tried. But that wasn’t what he was out here for. He just wanted to see the water, lie in the grass for a little while. It was cold out tonight and if he happened to freeze to death while he laid there, well, it wasn’t intentional.

Mavic left the car, lit up a cigarette and leaned against the hood for a moment. Wondering where he’d gone wrong with Velox. Much as he didn’t want to have those thoughts right now… he couldn’t stop them. The well overflowed in his mind, the boxes fell out of their stacks and the contents tumbled out. Maybe they’d been bad for each other from the start, and as good as things had seemed, as natural and real, that was probably where he’d gone wrong. Ilium had left him a broken thing and then there was Velox, pure and kind and sweet and Mavic had been drawn to  _that_ , not to the boy himself. Later, after everything, he’d clung to those qualities in the boy, always trying to find them and wallow in them. That the boy had possessed them was secondary. One liked coffee for the taste or the caffeine. Or one simply liked hot chocolate instead. Mavic knew where he fell on that scale and he’d never cared for coffee.

Sighing, he stomped out the cigarette and strode closer to the Pit. Pulled his light coat tighter around himself as he walked. In a few steps, he stood at the edge looking down into the water. There was an impulse to go home and get the gift Velox had made him, come back and chuck the thing in, but Mavic buried that. He wasn’t spiteful and he wasn’t cruel. He sat down, easing himself onto the grass and his legs hung over the lip of the sinkhole. It was several feet down to the water but he imagined that he could stretch his legs out and touch it. It was probably colder than all fuck. He’d freeze before he drowned. But, Mavic reminded himself, he wasn’t here for that.

He lay down on his back and stared at the sky, counted the stars. Remembered being out here years ago, his head on Crassus’ chest and pointing out the constellations. He hadn’t known them all, but oddly enough, his mate-boyfriend at the time- had. The memory stuck a ball of dread in his stomach that spread to his chest and Mavic brought his legs up, curling around them to stop the pain. He closed his eyes and let a sob escape, squeezing around himself, head bent toward his chest.  _Spirits, he’s gone. They’re both gone._

He must have fallen into that sleep of the emotionally exhausted because the next thing he was aware of was the sound of a car skidding to a stop on the gravel.  A door slamming, his name being yelled and running feet.  Then Therian grabbing his shoulders and yanking him back from the Pit. Mavic didn’t resist the hand that sought out his throat and checked for his pulse, eyes finally opening to behold the man. Only a few years older than himself, Therian was average in every way, not too tall or too wide through the chest or shoulders. His eyes were bright blue and his colony paint were the silver lines of the Citadel.

“Mavic? You with me? Come on,” The man pulled him to sitting, shook him. “Answer me, damn it.”

“I’m not dead.” Mavic said disdainfully but with otherwise empty tones. He didn’t have the energy for anything else, he just wanted to curl back up and sleep some more.

“You looked it.” Therian snapped, suddenly pulling Mavic up onto his feet and urging him toward the police car. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“I really don’t want to go home.” His bed smelled like Velox and sex. Dad was gone at his brother’s house. Mavic would be alone with that smell and the memory of the boy  _right there_. He couldn’t do that right now.

“Then I’m going to stick you in the drunk tank.  _Walk,_  damn it.”

“You can’t detain me, I haven’t done anything wrong.” He said, twisting in Therian’s grip and trying to free himself, but the man was former C-Sec and he knew how to restrain someone.

“Right. And you came out here to look at the stars.”

“It so happens that I did.”

“Varrenshit.” Therian’s hand tightened hard enough on his arm to make Mavic trill in pain. “Get in the damned car. I thought you were with your boyfriend this week.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Mavic told him.

“Your mate, then.” The cop corrected.

“He’s not that either.” And the sadness leaked through.

Therian looked down at him and must have seen the way he was fighting tears. “Shit Mavic, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” He murmured and slipped out of Therian’s suddenly loose grip.

“No, but… that sucks.”

He had no idea how much, but Mavic kept the pity party to himself. “Yeah, so. I don’t wanna go home, okay? Or to the damned drunk tank, or anywhere else I just wanna…” He didn’t know, and he knew that echoed out in his tones too.

Therian steered him away from the Pit with an arm around him and Mavic realized he’d walked toward it again. “Then… then I’ll take you somewhere else.” He said. “I can’t in good conscience leave you out here.”

“Where you gonna take me?” He demanded, trying to slide out from under that arm.

“Don’t know. Where do you want to go?”

Mavic stared over his shoulder at the Pit. “Did y’know Velox climbed down there and scooped up the water in a jar to give to me?” He asked, voice cracking, tears beginning to fall.

Therian was quiet just a moment and Mavic thought he saw him fidgeting. “That’s a crazy thing to be doing.”

“That’s what I told him. But he… he wanted me to have a piece of my homeworld I could always take with me.” His voice broke into a whimper and Therian was suddenly there, pulling him into a supportive hug. “Reckon he wasn’t crazy enough to stay with me though.”

“Come on now, don’t do this to yourself.”

“Just being honest.” Mavic said.

Therian sighed, dropped the hug and got him moving again. “Get in the car please.”

“I don’t wanna go home, Therian.”

“I know,” He murmured. “I’m not taking you home.”

Mavic peered up at him, mandibles hanging with his mood and confusion. “Where are you taking me, then?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet, to be honest with you, Mavic.” Therian told him.

… …

They ended up at Therian’s apartment on the other side of town. Mavic texted his dad to let him know he was safe, who he was with, where his car was and that he’d get it later. Whenever the former C-Sec man let him leave.

“You can smoke in here if you want,” Therian told him, lighting up his own cigarette. He smoked a different brand and to Mavic, it smelled sweeter. “Would you like something to drink? I don’t have anything alcoholic.”

“Water’s good. I don’t drink much alcohol anymore.” He said, sitting on the man’s couch and pulling out his own pack. It was empty. “Can I bum one?”

A pack sailed at him while Therian rifled in his fridge for a bottle of water and a packet of juice. Mavic dug one out, lit it and inhaled slowly. The cigarette tasted sweeter too.

“These are good.”

“I have them delivered from the Citadel.” Therian said, handing him the bottled water and sitting down next to him, situating an ashtray at the center of the low table in front of the couch. “It’s expensive, but I’ve been smoking these for about twenty years.”

“I can see why.” Mavic said, settling back in the couch. He looked at Therian out the corner of his eye. The man was… honestly, he was good-looking. Those eyes and those silver lines. He wasn’t cute like Velox and he wasn’t distinctly handsome like Crassus had been, but he was good-looking and Mavic was in a bad place. It was what had him scooting a little closer until their sides touched.

Therian cleared his throat. “I want you to know,” He began. “That I am sorry your… friend left you. But it does… ah, benefit me.”  He met Mavic’s eyes. “So if you ever need to-”

Mavic shut him up by kissing him. Desperately. Crawling into his lap after dropping his cigarette into that ashtray. He just wanted to feel something other than empty and Therian… he seemed to understand. They could fine-tune the details later.


	23. Nearly: Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd played with a Saren rp'er for a bit.

@roguespectrearterius, response to [this ](http://roguespectrearterius.tumblr.com/post/139892962430/almost-drabble-mature-content)drabbel

Saren sipped out the back as he always did after these liaisons - and there were many, had been many over the years- and Mavic hurried to clean himself up, to get dressed and look presentable for whoever was knocking on the storage-room door.

“Virim!” The man’s voice was worried, tones full of concern and Mavic recognized Executor Chellick’s low drawl. “Open this door or I’m going to-”

He unlocked the door and threw it open, standing there in an open shirt and pants that hung off his hips, belt loose and open but he was working on that. “Little patience goes a long way, y’know Chellick?”

The head of C-Sec flapped his mandibles at him, taking in his disheveled state and obvious scent of sex. “Seriously Virim?” He asked, tones more exasperated than shocked. But then, this had happened many times.

Still, Mavic played dumb. “What?”

Chellick pinned him with that stare that had recruits pissing down their leg but he just hitched his mandibles and gave it right back.

“Who is he?”

“…Just a guy I know.” He said, a little surprised that Chellick had asked when he never had before.

“You’re risking your career for ‘just a guy you know.’” He drawled.

“I’m not risking my career for-”

“You are, Virim. I could fire you, here and now, for this type of infraction.”

Mavic shut up, standing at attention before his superior.

“At ease.” Chellick said, frowning at him. “I’m not going to fire you. The quality of your work and the name attached to it nearly means I can’t without facing some backlash or another. But this is a final warning Virim. If it happens again…” He let the threat hang.

“It won’t, Executor, Sir.” He promised.

“No. It won’t.” The man said very clearly. “Go home Virim. Clean yourself up. Talk to that guy you know about a time and a place for these things.”

“Sir? I’ve already had my breaks and my lunch to-”

“You’re done for the day. Go home.”

“…Yessir.”

Chellick turned on his heel and left the smaller turian standing there without another word but it was clear he’d made his point. After a few moments, Mavic finished righting his clothes and cleaning the counter Saren had fucked him on. They… shit, they really couldn’t do this anymore. Mavic loved the man, but he wasn’t going to risk his business- his dad’s business- for a kink the man had. Fuck that. He headed out, locking down the system and left the building, stopping outside to put his locking codes into the main door, his back to the street.

“Are you Mavic Virim?” A voice asked.

He nodded without turning around. “Yeah. Sorry, the Executor’s sent me home for the day.” His input code clicked red and he turned around, hands dropping into his pockets. “If you wanna come back tomorrow morning, I can-”

He didn’t get anything out before thunder roared and struck his chest hard enough to completely rob his lungs of air.

“The Shadow Broker sends his condolences.” The voice said through the rain. Odd that it was raining on the Citadel of all places, but why else would his shirt be soaked through? 


	24. Road Trip: Mob Mavic and Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That same verse, a peek into Mavic's life when he was really happy. Smut in this one.

“You can’t be serious.” Crassus drawled, looking at him askance.

Mavic grinned. “Oh I’m serious, deadly so.”

“I’m driving.”

“You’re sexy.”

Crassus snorted incredulously. “I’m not letting you su-”

“C’mon babe,” The smaller turian purred, sliding a hand up his leg. “It’ll be quick.” The nasty look his mate gave him had Mavic laughing hard, leaning on his shoulder while he kept palming him. “Y’know what I meant.”

“I know what you insinuated.” The bigger turian muttered.

“Hey, for the record, you last longer than any guy I’ve ever-”

Crassus gave him that nasty look again and Mavic shut up, sulking against his side and sitting a little straighter to be tucked to his throat and breathe in the scent of him. Neither of them really liked to talk about past lovers but Mavic knew he had a tendency to drop hints and allusions. Things that occasionally messed with Crass’ moods. Like now. The nebulous- and well meaning- statement had made his mate stiff and not in the way he’d hoped for.

“Sorry. I just meant-”

“I know what you meant, Mav.”

“Still though.”

They were quiet a little longer, Crassus driving, Mavic plastered to his side and purring from his warmth alone. No place he’d rather be than right there, even if he’d pushed his mate into one of his moods. He kept his hand on Crass’ thigh but stopped trying to actually accost him; he could wait till they actually got home.  

“…Do you really want to?” Crass asked him as they neared the exit for the highway. “There’s… a long stretch of open road.”  _No prying eyes._

Mavic swallowed at the offer and slid his hand way higher up Crass’ leg. His mate let out a tight moan. “Spirits, you’re so hard.”

“I know.” His voice was rough with need and Mavic loved when it sounded like that. “Just-”

“I’ll go easy on you, babe.”

Crassus chuckled lowly. “I don’t believe that for a second, Mav.”

“You probably shouldn’t.”

The giant Invictian smiled at him and wrapped one hand around the back of his neck while the other steered them toward the highway. Mavic shifted in his seat, pulling one leg under himself and leaning over it, leaning over Crass. Kissing down his chest through his shirt, over his stomach and lower until he could feel his mate’s erection through his clothes. But he was going to take care of that in just a few minutes here…

“I love you.” He murmured against his mate’s belt.

“Are you talking to me or my-”

“Both, babe. Both.” He teased, licking the closure of Crass’ pants, letting him feel the pressure of his mouth.

“Cocktease.” Crassus rasped, pushing his head down.

“Hey, I’ma follow through.”

“You had better.” His voice was tight again. Mavic knew these kinds of sexual things made his mate uncomfortable and they’d covered a lot of ground since they’d begun dating, more since they mated, but there were always new things to try. He loved that his mate was willing to try them.

“Keep your eyes open for cops.” He said, unzipping his mate’s pants and letting his erection out. Mavic didn’t waste any time, licking that long thick length from the base up and teasing the tip of his tongue between ridges.

Crassus sucked in a breath and the car sped up.

“Relax babe, I don’t wanna wreck.”

“Shit. Neither do I.”  _So don’t tease, you fucker_. Hummed with dry humor over his head.

Mavic flicked his mandibles, licked Crassus again but stopped teasing.  He took his mate’s cock into his mouth, feeling it slide over his tongue and to the opening of his throat. He swallowed, felt the ridges dig into his tongue. Heard Crassus moan and the engine roar. He pulled up, sucking his tip. “Keep it under the speed limit.”

“Spirits.”

He grinned again, slid back down and treated his mate to every dick sucking trick he knew.  He bobbed his head for a little while, still licking over ridges, before the hand on the back of his neck moved to hold his fringe, to push his head down. The tip of Crass’ cock struck the back of his throat hard and Mavic swallowed around him again, purring.

“Fuck… oh fuck… Mav.”

He rolled his eyes up, keeping his balance with a hand on Crassus’ thigh, feeling his muscles strain under the fabric as he started to buck his hips. Mavic moaned around him again, wiggling his tongue, sliding it out of his mouth and into the opened seam at his mate’s base. Crassus growled. So did the car. Too dangerous a game, he decided, fighting against his mate’s hand to push his head up. He panted against the man’s tip.

“Pull over, babe.” He requested, watching his mate nod. The car slowed, hit the speed strip at the side of the rode and then idled. Crassus looked down at him, green eyes bright in the moonlight as he gave a wordless gesture, shifting in the seat and giving Mavic his hips. “Thanks.”

He dove in again, taking Crassus’ thick cock right back into his throat, bobbing his head again, licking and sucking and purring. His mate moaned, thrusting into his mouth, at once just stroking his fringe and forcing his head down, making him take every inch. Which he did happily, moaning around him as Crassus fucked his mouth.

“Spirits,” Crassus panted, head tilted and watching. Mavic met his eyes. “Are you going to swallow me, love? Every drop?”

Mavic blinked in lieu of nodding.

His mate smirked at him, gripping his fringe and shoved him down until his nose was buried against his plating, starting to thrust again, hard and fast, into his throat over and over. Mavic sucked him while he did, flaring his tongue against his underside, over his ridges, rubbing his inner thighs. Purring loudly. Spirits, he loved it when Crass got like this, driven just to get off.

“Spirits… Spirits, Mav. Oh, fuck-!” His hips bucked hard, his cock swelled on Mavic’s tongue and he felt the surge go through his mate as his body arched and spurt after spurt of hot cum hit the back of his throat. “Swallow it love, every drop. Yes, just like that, Mavic.”

He struggled not to let a single drop of his mate escape but given how deep he was in his throat it wasn’t difficult. Pulling back slowly, Mavic licked away every trace, laving Crass’ cock with gentle licks, giving his tip a final, long suck, tonguing the slit to be certain he hadn’t missed anything. His mate let out a soft keen, trembling in the seat. Mavic tucked him away.

“Well? Good?” He asked, sitting back in his seat and adjusting his erection through his pants. Fuck, his mate looked so good right then, panting and bright-eyed.

“V-very good.” Spirits, even his voice was shaking. Mavic felt a swelling of pride.  “Want to switch?

Mavic grinned at his mate. “Oh yeah.” He purred, kicking open the car door.  “C’mon, I’ll drive.”


	25. Dealing With Things That Are Broken: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I've finished writing Mavic- I no longer rp as him unless requested- we're moving on to the drabbles from Crassus and Cato.

It had happened again. Mavic had kissed him in a moment of misplaced need and gratitude. He could have stopped it there, could have pushed the much smaller turian away but the spirits damn him, Crassus had wrapped his arms around Mavic and pulled him closer. He’d kept the kiss going until they were using each other’s lungs to breathe and their clothes littered the floor.

Mavic hadn’t looked at him with love and acceptance after they were finished, hadn’t looked at him with any tender emotion but for that one he wore after a clean kill. Satisfaction and triumph; two things Crassus didn’t feel in regards to what they’d just done. But he’d let the other man lie back down on his chest, tuck his head against his throat and had even pet his fringe until he was relaxed enough to sleep.

Crassus stayed awake for a long time just fighting to keep his subharmonics from sounding out and stirring Mavic. He knew he couldn’t let this keep happening, not when the younger turian didn’t feel near the same way about him anymore. Hell, if Mavic had ever loved him- and honestly, he did sometimes wonder- he wasn’t capable of that now.

With a quiet keen for all that he’d given up, Crassus turned onto his side, taking Mavic’s sleeping form with him. When he’d settled again it was with  _his_  head tucked under the other man’s chin, mouth resting on his throat over the spot a mate would leave a permanent mark of commitment. He kissed that spot once and heard Mavic murmur sleepily and he held his breath until the man had resettled.

Really, it didn’t hurt to pretend, just for a few moments, that things had never changed between them.


	26. The Taste of Fear: Crassus and Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for blood and character death. Mavic and Crass doing their job.

It was certainly distinct; impossible to get mixed up with other sensations. The bottom suddenly disappearing from his stomach; his heart jumping into his throat and lodging there. Crassus knew the sensation intimately. He’d felt it every time his dad had raised a hand to them growing up. Had felt it that time the krogan merc had clipped his knee with a shotgun and he’d gone down thinking  _that’s it, I’m dead_ before one of his unit mates had incinerated the bastard and then plugged him full of a hundred holes. He had felt it yet again when Taren had broken her ankle so badly that she’d needed surgery to correct it. But that had been tinged with guilt because he couldn’t be there with her. 

This was the first time he’d tasted fear. A sickly bile at the back of his throat and coating his tongue with a thick film he couldn’t get rid of no matter how many times he swallowed. It was a new flavor and one he certainly didn’t like. Crassus was used to the taste of anger; oftentimes bitter but always powerful. He was the most familiar with the taste of guilt; sour and thick like a syrup. Love he’d gotten to sample and savor just once and by the spirits he didn’t have a name for that flavor. But the taste of fear…it was new and vastly unwelcome.

And Mavic still hadn’t moved. Lying half on top of that stupid human, the red of his blood mixing with the blue of Mavic’s and turning the dirty floor a terrifying shade of purple.

Crassus couldn’t breathe. He’d failed to protect the tiny Carthaan born turian. He’d failed and he’d be executed for it and then Taren wouldn’t have anyone as hellbent on keeping her safe as he was. Crassus was frozen, staring through his scope.

Then there was a cough, a small hand came up to a bloody slick throat and a raspy voice filled his ears through the private channel he had with Mavic. “Crassus…help…”

Fear was cloying, as sour as guilt, as powerful as anger and as unnameable as love. But the sweetness of relief overwhelmed it. 


	27. The One That Matters: 2165: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crassus comes from an abusive and hateful family. The only one that matters to him is his baby sister, Taren.

“Okay what’s…this color?” Crassus asked pointing to the card laid out on his sister’s little table, the one that barely came up to his calf spur even though he was sitting down on the floor with her.

“Blue!” The three-year-old chirped up at him.

“Good job Taren!” He praised with extra enthusiasm just for the way her itty-bitty mandibles flared out when she smiled. 

“Okay, okay. You know the color but can you tell me the shape?” He challenged her.

“Um…”

“Come on sweetie, I know you know.”

“It’s um….um….”

Crassus watched her struggle to figure it out for a total of five seconds before he couldn’t take it anymore. “You know, now that I think about it, I can’t remember what that shape is either. I know that it’s round and that it bounces  _and_  that you have one but not what it’s-”

“Ball!” She screeched. “It’s a ball! It’s a ball!”

“Yes!” He exclaimed. “You are  _so_  smart Taren.”

She climbed up on him, standing on his spurs and grabbing his face in her little hands. “Cos you teaches me everything big bruddah.”

Crassus hugged her, jumping to his feet and tossing her into the air. Not very high but enough to make her squeal with delight. “That’s because if I teach you everything now you’ll be smarter than  _all_  of us before you’re ten!”

He tossed Taren up again and she giggled wildly, screaming at him to throw her higher and higher. When Crassus caught her the last time he pretended that his arms ached and were about to give out even though he knew he could keep at it no problem.

“But big bruddah!” She whined, trying to climb up his front using his shirt.

“Taren I'm  _tiiiired_.” He exaggerated, stretching out the word and making his voice high like hers. “Besides it’s almost time for dinner and-”

A series of distinct sounds interrupted him and Taren’s face lit up like a beacon.

“Daddy’s home!” She cried and scrambled out of his hold. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

Crassus followed his sister out of her room as she went to greet their father at the door.

Tiber picked her up with a smile that simply fell as soon as the man saw him. “What are you doing here?” He demanded.

“Big bruddah’s on-” Taren twisted around to face him from her father’s arms, thankfully missing the venom in his tone. “-wassit called?”

“Shore leave, sweetie.”

“For how long?” Tiber asked.

“Two weeks sir.”

His father hummed. “I don’t want any of your  _friends_  over.”

“No sir.”

“Daddy!” Taren grabbed his face like she’d done to Crassus’. “Big bruddah teached me colors today!”

“He did?!” Tiber smiled and carried his daughter past him, taking effort not to touch him even by accident. 


	28. Happiest Memory: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A drabble from "30 days of Character Development."

Mom had said her name was to be Taren. She didn’t really look like a Taren, she really didn’t look like anything but a baby. A baby that was smiling at him. Was she smiling? Crassus thought so. That’s what the crooked spread of tiny, tiny mandibles meant but he didn’t know if babies could smile at only ten minutes old. And she was looking up at him from wide pale green eyes that took up the majority of her little grey plated face with…love. Spirits. Crassus shifted her in his hands- she was so tiny he really only needed one to hold her but instinct told him two would be better- and brought his foreplate to hers in a gentle nuzzle as Taren’s little hands reached up to pat his face, explore his mandibles and the stripes of purple there. She was another sister that would grow to despise him given time and conditioning like his other sisters but for now…. for now she loved him.

A nurse came to take her away to feed her and Crassus found himself lifting a shoulder and turning his torso to prevent it. “Just a minute longer? Please?”

“Are you the father? We’ve been trying to contact you.” The nurse said with disapproval in her tones. Crassus didn’t blame her, he looked several decades younger than his mother, it wasn’t proper. And they had been trying to reach his dad since yesterday evening; he wasn’t happy with the man in that regard either.

“I’m her brother.” He said without guile. He was far past judging people at this point. “May I feed her? It will give my mom time to rest undisturbed.”

“It’s important for a mother to-”

“Please? I know how, I’ve two other sisters.” There must have been something in his subharmonics because the nurse relented with a small smile. 

Crassus thanked her and took the small feeding tube designed for infants full of nutrient heavy paste. Taren took to it with excitement, still looking at him the exact same way she had been before the nurse came in. Crassus hummed a soft song to her under his breath and his darker green eyes never once looked away.


	29. The First Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cato was created as a throw-away character that I thought would die in this verse. He made it longer than originally planned. This features a version of Crassus that lost himself.

He wasn’t a virgin anymore. It was a thought that was honestly, unfairly keeping him awake as he laid in his cot aboard the small Blackwatch transit ship that belonged to Sativum. Crassus. The man he said it was okay to call him Crassus. Cato didn’t think so. It felt weird to call a superior by name. He hadn’t even called Razek by name, just sir. Not that Razek was actually technically a superior, not in the sense Sativum was. The ruler of Omega wasn’t even Hierarchy, nor was he Cabal.

Cato kept thinking about him too. How the man had looked rising over him, how his mouth had tasted, how it had felt for him to- Cato shifted on the cot, drawing his legs up close. It wasn’t like he’d been  _saving_  his virginity for someone he loved or a mate or someone like that. He hadn’t been saving it at all. In fact he hadn’t even thought about it until Razek had climbed into his lap and straight up told him what he wanted. Was that normal? The method of seduction? He’d certainly been seduced and that had been fun but… Was it normal to be seduced like that? By someone like that? It was all so weird. And now, knowing what he did about Razek, it felt very, very wrong.

_“He made you feel special?” Sativum repeated and there was something in his voice now, something Cato really didn’t like.  
_

_“Yes sir.”  
_

_“Care to explain.” Not a question this time and he knew that was bad.  
_

_“…Not really sir.”  
_

_Sativum arched a browplate at him and Cato fidgeted, running a hand over his amp gently. It felt weird now that he’d put it back in, like maybe it wasn’t his but it was. Razek’s had been a different model._

_“It’s just difficult to explain sir.” Cato tried but still the man looked at him in that way that made him uneasy.  
_

_“Try.” An order this time, Sativum’s harmonics left no doubt of that._

_“He was very kind and…. We had sex sir. I’ve never done that before.”  
_

_The agent swore and looked away, running a hand over that long fringe of his. Cato’s eyes followed the path of his hand and he swallowed. What Razek had said about him ran through his head again. Sativum was… just as good looking, he thought. He didn’t want to think that. But… he wondered how the man tasted, if he tasted different from Razek. Cato swallowed again. Bad thoughts that had no place in his head. None at all. Go away. Stay away._

_“I hope you haven’t gotten attached to him.”  
_

_“Sir?”  
_

_“He murdered my mate.” Sativum said and his harmonics had fallen somewhere dark and frightening and sad. Cato recoiled from him. “I’m going to repay him in kind and I won’t be near as quick about it.”  
_

_He didn’t respond to that. What could he even say?_


	30. Protect: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of constant canon between Mavic and Crass.

Crassus growled and took a step toward the man and the smile dropped from his face as he suddenly seemed to understand how serious he was.

“I am your commanding officer.”

“He told me what you tried to do.” Crassus’ voice was a low snarl. “And I’ve watched you Phinnim, I know he’s not the only one.”

“Please,” The older man laughed. “You can’t rape the willing and they’re  _always_ willing.”

Another growl and then he was moving, using that well-kept secret of speed and taking his CO to the floor, going for his face with his fist, his talons unchecked. Phinnim had more experience, true, but he wasn’t near as pissed off. 


	31. How It All Started: 2179: Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My poor Cato is biotic. He gets the shit end of the stick a lot.

The cool cloth being placed over the empty amp port at the back of his neck made Cato throw up again. The nurse rubbing his back in soothing circles cooed to him sympathetically. Part of that word stuck out in his head. Pathetic. He was so pathetic. Others that had undergone the surgery were better by now.

“Do you feel better, sweetie? Does that help?” The nurse asked him kindly. Cato liked her, she was a biotic too, and old like his grandma, only nicer so he didn’t lie to her.

“No, the cold feels good but I’m still-” He threw up again and she cooed some more. After so many times his throat burned and his stomach ached, his chest felt bruised inside and out and he cried pathetically. There was that word again, he thought. The Spirits had- well this was their doing, wasn’t it? Or was it his? Some cosmic punishment something done as a past self was what all the stories said. Personally it sounded like varrenshit to Cato; he couldn’t see why the Spirits would care.

He giggled, a manic little sound. He’d cursed! He’d actually cursed, albeit in his head. It was funny. The nurse sighed like she knew his thoughts and he cried harder in shame. Cursing the Spirits wasn’t going to help him.

“Come on now, let’s get you up and in the bath, get you nice and clean feeling before your mother comes to get you.”

Cato shook his head adamantly. “No no no.”

“Cato, the water will help you feel better. Remember how good it felt last time?” She asked, gently helping him to his feet.

“ ‘Till it gets in my port and you have to redo my stitches again.” He whined but didn’t fight her more than that.

“Well stop trying to swim, sweetheart,” The nurse teased him lightly. “Come on now, I’ll draw the water for you.”

Cato did get in the bath with water warm enough to be just shy of too hot. The nurse sat beside him outside the tub and helped him rub the cleaning stone over his fringe when he asked her to, then she helped rinse him without getting water in his amp slot and then she helped him dress. The clothes were new, a starter Cabal uniform that fit too well in Cato’s opinion, like they’d taken his measurement while he was sleeping and then sewed it together for him. They probably had and the thought disturbed him. It was nightmare fuel and Cato’s young imagination loved it.

“Look at you,” The nurse beamed, straightening his clothes. “Such a handsome young man.”

He gave her a small, shy smile.  A few minutes after that, they stood in the waiting room, him fidgeting and her giving him encouraging smiles and soft words. When his mother came to get him, Cato didn’t recognize her until she knelt in front of him and took his hands. He pulled away and looked up at the nurse for confirmation and then back at the new woman.

“You’re my momma?” He asked, voice and harmonics a squeak while she gasped a stood up in a hurry.

“Miss Aequas,” The nurse said. “I know the doctor spoke to you. Memory loss after surgery at his age isn’t that uncommon. I’ve seen it hundreds of times and I assure you the pieces will come back him…. Did the doctor speak to you about the other complications?”

“Yes, he did, but I-“

Cato tuned out. The woman- his mother- was carrying a bag in one hand, small and bright with the colors of childhood. He knew it was his, he  _knew_  and he took his from her, barely noticing how easily it slipped from her fingers and flopped to the floor. He unlatched the flap and flipped it open, peering inside.

“Remy!” He exclaimed, pulling out the stuffed dog he’d found…. He didn’t remember where or when.  Both women looked down at him, his mother’s pale eyes dripping tears.


	32. Leave My Body: Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Played with a supremely evil Garrus for a while. Cato was a prisoner. Warnings for mentions of rape, torture, drug use. This drabble is Cato's first attempt at suicide. Also song fic

[turianflaps](http://tmblr.co/mq_rrViBKfg29NkFmffaaCA) _And a drabble for you too my friend

**_I’m gonna be released from behind these lines_ **

**_Don’t care whether I live or die_ **

**_And I’m losing blood, I’m gonna leave my bones_ **

**_And I don’t want your heart_ **

**_Leaves me cold_ **

Cato slipped the padded cuff, scrunching his fingers together to make it easier. The second padded cuff he just loosened and took off. It wasn’t the first time he’d done this but it was much easier than the first couple of times, even with his hands shaking so bad he had to stop and start. Again and again. He knew he didn’t have a lot of time, Garrus could be back at any moment and it had already been half an hour. He had… maybe two hours at most, depending on what his kidnapper was doing.   _Murdering someone else,_ That whisper in his head murmured.  _Hurting someone else…_ The young biotic whimpered to himself. He was still so sore…  _Your fault. You should have fought harder. Or at least fought him at all._

**_I don’t want your future,_ **

**_I don’t need your past_ **

**_One bright moment is all I ask_ **

That was the reason for this, why he’d been slowly loosening his cuffs and watching Garrus, learning his habits. Learning where he hid the sand and where he moved it to when he decided to move it. Today it would be in the bathroom, and if Cato was right, taped under the lid of the toilet. He could get a tray and a straw from the kitchen.

**_I’m gonna leave my body,_ **

**_Moving up to higher grounds_ **

**_I’m gonna lose my mind_ **

**_For history keeps pulling me down_ **

He found the baggy- thick, heavy- exactly where he’d planned for it to be. Garrus wasn’t as smart as he thought he was, but neither was Cato as he saw himself in the mirror. His dark eyes- his only good feature and one Garrus often pointed out to him- were sunken and dull. Lifeless. Cato supposed it matched the rest of him and just like that he was crying. He’d been struggling not to do that when his kidnapper was around. Another fifteen minutes had passed by the time he had nothing left and Cato had curled up on the floor as tightly as he could, rocking himself. He pushed himself to his feet, entire body trembling now that he had his prize so close.

**_I don’t need a husband, don’t need no wife_ **

**_I don’t need the day, I don’t need the night_ **

**_And I don’t need the birds, let them fly away_ **

**_And I don’t want the clouds, they never seem to stay_ **

It entered his system so fast, hitting him like a Reave, pulling him down onto the bed and flattening him under the force. One biotic wave after another, his power amplified like he’d never felt. Cato couldn’t even remember how many lines he’d done. Five? He felt like it was more and a look at the bag showed him there was a third missing. Or was that remaining? Cato’s breath wheezed out, biotics crackling over his chest, heavy, crushing and he couldn’t breathe.

**_I don’t want your future,_ **

**_I don’t need your past_ **

**_One bright moment is all I ask_ **

**_I’m gonna leave my body,_ **

**_Moving up to higher grounds_ **

**_I’m gonna lose my mind_ **

**_For history keeps pulling me down_ **

Cato’s eyes rolled in his head and he smiled, even as he began to convulse and choke. He heard the door open and Garrus’ footsteps. That whisper in his head became a laugh.


	33. Shake it Out: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss this rp'er. Crassus does too. Song fic.

[auguscusacilcolus](http://tmblr.co/mNTysxOOuv1eMXLylLgMPzA)

**_Crassus Drabble Shake it Out_ **

**_Regrets collect like old friends_ **

**_Here to relive your darkest moments_ **

**_I can see no way, I can see no way_ **

**_And all of the ghouls come out to play_ **

**_And every demon wants his pound of flesh_ **

**_But I like to keep some things to myself_ **

**_I like to keep my issues drawn_ **

**_It’s always darkest before the dawn_ **

Crassus shifted, reluctant to get up and disturb Augus’ sleep any more than he already had with his restlessness.  Just because he couldn’t sleep didn’t mean there was anything wrong. Not when Augus was next to him, breathing deep and easy, the sleep well deserved after the mess of today… The disaster they’d found at his mate’s former home… Crassus still couldn’t believe it. All he’d found and cleaned in the kitchen, it would barely have been worse had the bodies still been there. He’d thought Augus was going to break when confronted with… that, but he’d held up. Crassus wasn’t so sure he could say the same about himself but it hadn’t been his mate’s blood on the wall or his child’s blood staining that large oaken table. Spirits. Oh Spirits.

**_And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind_ **

**_I can never leave the past behind_ **

**_I can see no way, I can see no way_ **

**_I’m always dragging that horse around_ **

**_All of his questions such a mournful sound_ **

**_Tonight I’m gonna bury that horse in the ground_ **

**_So I like to keep my issues drawn_ **

**_But it’s always darkest before the dawn_ **

Crassus ran his hand over his fringe, grasping and messaging the back of his neck for a moment. He sighed and stroked Augus’ back, just once, his hand lingering. In the ensuing passion- and spirits that was the only word for it- he’d nearly forgotten the chaos of that house. The smell of bleach and cleaner cleansed from his hands and body with Augus’ scent and he was so much better for it. Even after a second shower- when the first had simply dissolved into more or rather the first taste of that passion- he still carried his mate’s scent.

**_And I am done with my graceless heart_ **

**_So tonight I’m gonna cut it out and restart_ **

**_‘Cause I like to keep my issues drawn_ **

**_It’s always darkest before the dawn_ **

**_And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back_ **

**_And given half the chance would I take any of it back_ **

**_It’s a fine romance but it’s left me so undone_ **

He shifted on the bed again, lying back down with his arm softly sliding over Augus’ waist as he scooted up against his back, tucking his face to the back of his neck and breathing in his smell. Spirits he really couldn’t understand it, how Augus had gone through so much and still had room in his heart for… him. Crassus nuzzled the back of his neck, his other arm slipping beneath him and pulling Augus a little closer as he sighed with content. The Spirits had never been both so kind and so cruel to one person and he was just glad he’d wandered into the other man’s life when he had.

**_And it’s hard to dance_ **

**_With a devil on your back_ **

**_So shake him off_ **


	34. I'm Not Calling You A Liar: Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Played with a Nihlus. His and Cato's relationship was not a healthy one but it had its sweet moments.

**_’m not calling you a liar_ **

**_Just don’t lie to me_ **

**_I’m not calling you a thief_ **

**_Just don’t steal from me_ **

Cato smiled once, just a twitch of mandibles there and gone from one second to the next.  He was trying to give the Spectre his privacy for his workout but he couldn’t help but to glance over from time to time.  Things had improved a bunch even if there were still so many things unsaid between them, so many half-truths but Cato had finally decided to stop needling for their completion.

**_I’m not calling you a ghost_ **

**_Just stop haunting me_ **

**_And I love you so much_ **

**_I’m gonna let you kill me_ **

He was still watching Nihlus constantly for signs of approval or otherwise. Still watching to make sure he hadn’t found a new way to let him down other than being a shitty turian and shittier biotic. Two things Nihlus was slowly convincing him he wasn’t. Cato’s mandibles twitched in another small smile, watching him go at the punching bag like it was a real opponent and not just a thing hanging from the cargo bay ceiling. The Spectre had good form, in fact, he had a lot of good things.

**_There’s a ghost in my lungs and it sighs in my sleep_ **

**_Wraps itself around my tongue as it softly speaks_ **

**_Then it walks, then it walks with my legs_ **

**_To fall, to fall, to fall at your feet_ **

The young biotic looked away, down at his feet and then up at the crate he was trying to pull down with his biotics. He’d managed to wiggle it a few inches before he had to stop to catch his breath. He was making progress considering he’d actually managed to move the crate at all. Granted he was trying to impress Nihlus…. And he was pretty sure he was.  Which was good and when Cato smiled at the Spectre again, Nihlus smiled back.

**_There but for the grace of god go I_ **

**_And when you kiss me_ **

**_I’m happy enough to die_ **


	35. Drumming: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crassus goes too far trying to protect someone he care about. Song fic. Warnings for stalking and murder.

**_There’s a drumming noise inside my head that starts when you’re around_ **

**_I swear that you could hear it_ **

**_It makes such an almighty sound_ **

**_There’s a drumming noise inside my head that throws me to the ground_ **

**_I swear that you should hear it_ **

**_It makes such an almighty sound_ **

 

It was hard for him to fathom at time, how they’d started. Standing outside Mavic’s door, the little turian with green markings and bared teeth so easily putting the fear of the Spirits into him. Crassus could think back on it now and smile. That had been the start, the first step into a downward spiral and he was still going ever downward, occasionally looking up. Searching for that famed light at the end, or the beginning as the case might be. But there were no regrets. Not a single one.

**_Louder than sirens_ **

**_Louder than bells_ **

**_Sweeter than heaven_ **

**_And hotter than hell_ **

Not even after he’d killed for Tavi the first time. He knew what to look for when it came to bad… clients. All he had to do was look at himself. Not the surface, mind you, the inside, the hidden. So well hidden. Tavi didn’t see it. Mavic hadn’t either.  But Crassus knew it was there, he’d nursed it for years, made it stronger for when he needed it and then hidden it away behind pleasant green eyes and an aloof smile. And then later, the scope of his rifle. Keeping Tavi safe from clients that were too similar to himself.

****

**_I ran to a tower_ **

**_Where the church bells chime_ **

**_I hoped that they_ **

**_Would clear my mind_ **

**_They left a ringing_ **

**_In my ear_ **

**_But that drum’s still beating_ **

**_Loud and clear_ **

Crassus wondered what Tavi would do, if he ever found out just how many he’d kept away. Oh, no enough to hurt his business, the smaller turian deserved his sense of freedom, but more than a few had fallen under the sight of his scope and more than few had been threatened away simply by glimpsing him in the shadows. He was always there and Tavi never knew. The Omega refugee probably had the sense he was being followed, he had good instincts, he’d had to, but Crassus was careful. He did this sort of thing for a living and now there were more reasons to come home safe other than his sister’s peace of mind. He knew Taren and Tavi would move on without him, he knew that his sister would mourn him and Tavi would forget him after a time but he didn’t want to give either of them the chance to.

**_As I move_ **

**_My feet_ **

**_Towards your body_ **

**_I can_ **

**_Hear_ **

**_This_ **

**_Beat_ **

**_It fills my head up_ **

**_And gets louder_ **

**_And louder_ **

**_It fills my head up_ **

**_And gets louder_ **

**_And louder_ **

A caress of the trigger, almost no pressure to be applied and he’d have to thank Mavic for the new modifications later, and the man dropped. He was the second in six months that had attempted to follow Tavi home. The first had fallen the same way and Crassus wasn’t losing any sleep over it because Tavi wasn’t and that was what mattered. He’d given the young man a safe place to lay his head at night and a warm bed to do it in too. That was all that Crassus cared about as he folded his rifle up and stowed it over his shoulder.

**_I run to the river and dive straight in_ **

**_I pray that the water will drown out the din_ **

**_But as the water fills my mouth_ **

**_It couldn’t wash the echoes out_ **

**_But as the water fills my mouth_ **

**_It couldn’t wash the echoes out_ **

**_I swallow the sound_ **

**_And it swallows me whole_ **

**_Till there’s nothing left inside my soul_ **

**_As empty as that beating drum_ **

**_But the sound_ **

**_Has_ **

**_Just_ **

**_Begun_ **

Crassus slid his hand back over his fringe, rubbed the back of his neck. His heartbeat was loud in his ears and rough in his chest, he could feel it behind his ribs. Constant. Building. He was anxious to get home, to was the smell of his gun off and see Tavi again. A car pulled up in front of him and Crassus moved to step around it without looking, it was only the glint of blue and silver that held him still a moment until the door opened and one of C-Sec’s finest stepped out.

“Crassus Sativum?”

“Yes.”

“I need you to get in the car.”


	36. Talks with Cato: Crass and Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crassus talks with Cato while he struggles with healing after his order with that Evil Garrus. Warnings for mentions of rape and abuse.

They were both supposed to be gone. He’d heard voices and then a door closing. Then more voices and the door closing again. They were supposed to be gone, it was the only reason Cato had ventured out of the room he’d been given. He hadn’t expected to find Crassus standing in the kitchen with his back to him and… talking to himself. Cato’s head tilted in confusion and that was when he saw the little turian head pop up over the giant’s shoulder, bright blue eyes staring at him. He gasped and jumped back, colliding with the doorframe. Crassus turned around to look at him and Cato froze before he could make his legs run away.

“Good morning Cato,” The giant turian said and the little turian- the child- clinging to his cowl gave a little wave of waggling fingers. Cato stared. Crassus gave him a gentle smile. “This is Hunter.”

It took a moment for Cato’s heart to calm. “G-good morning,” He said back dutifully.

Crassus turned back around. The child continued to watch Cato over the collar of his shirt. “I’m making him lunch before I lay him down for a nap.” The larger turian explained. “Would you like something to eat too?”

“Is Hunter your son?” Cato asked before he could stop himself, just blurting the question out.

The larger turian chuckled. “No, no. Hunter is my friend’s son, and my sort of nephew.  I was conned into babysitting again today.” The man’s harmonics said he was joking but Cato wasn’t sure about what. “Do you want something to eat?”

“Oh.” That had been the question, right. “Um, yes please.”

“Alright.” Crassus shifted Hunter and the boy chirped at him, tugging at his shirt. Cato couldn’t help but watch the boy avidly. He’d never been around any babies before.  “You calm down, mister squirmy.”

“C-can I hold him?” He blurted. “I mean, just while you’re cooking? I can be gentle.”

The larger turian seemed to be trying to get the squirming child under control without dropping him. “I- well, yes, alright. If you want to.” He turned to Cato and gingerly handed the little boy over. “He likes to tug mandibles so keep them close to your face if you want to keep them.” Crassus warned.

“O-okay….” Hunter stared at him and Cato stared back.

“You’re a natural.” The giant turian commented as he turned back to the stove. “Hunter likes you too.”

“What?” Cato couldn’t imagine anyone liking him, never mind someone he’d met like a minute ago. “How can you even tell? He’s just looking at me.”

Crassus chuckled. “That’s what babies do. You’re lucky he didn’t go right for your eyes.”

The young biotic’s mandibles pulled in tight and Hunter gave him a gummy smile.  _Where are his teeth?_

The larger turian walked over to the table, setting down one plate full with a myriad of finger foods. Hunter gave an excited trill and squirmed in Cato’s arms, twisting around to get at his lunch.

“Just don’t let him fall in the floor while he eats.” Crassus said, petting the little boy’s fringe. His hand was so close Cato flinched. It immediately left. “I’ll make you something now.”  He hummed to himself. “I need a highchair for him…”

Cato watched the boy eat silently, honestly impressed about how much he was packing away. He was done eating before Crassus was done making Cato’s food and then he was just sitting on his knee, chattering baby-speak.

“Um…”

Crassus laughed and scooped him up.  “Sure thing kiddo.”

“You understood him?!” He’d heard nothing but gibberish but then he’d never been around children that age before.

“No, no, he just chatters and I guess based on his tones. It will be a while before he’s speaking words.” He explained. “Let me put him down for his nap, please eat. Say night night Hunter.”

The little boy gave that finger waggle wave again and Cato returned it.  It was several minutes before Crassus came back, sitting down at the end of the table, giving him plenty of space. Which was good, being alone with the giant turian was still unsettling at times.  Not like being alone with Tavi, that wasn’t unsettling at all, Cato even kind of liked it. But then he really liked Tavi. Which meant he should like Crassus if Tavi did….

“So… how are you doing, Cato? I mean really.”

“I’m…” He didn’t know what to say, talking to Crassus wasn’t as easy as talking to Tavi.

“Do you know what I do for work?” The larger turian asked after a few moments of silence and Cato shook his head. “I’m with the Blackwatch. Do you know what that means?”

“No…?”

Crassus inclined his head a bit, crossing his arms over his huge chest. “It means, I have it within my power to hurt the man that hurt you. I have it within my power to kill him, if you so wish, and I’ll face no consequence for it.”

Cato stared at him, mandibles twitching but he didn’t say anything. He was starting to really trust his first instinct when it came to this man. Fear. Wariness. He so easily talked about killing the man that had kidnapped him and so much worse. In Cato’s head that put Crassus in the same category of dangerousness.  _Tavi talked really easily about killing people too though. Is he dangerous? Tavi’s different. How? He just is._  The young turian was silent as he ran through the usual conversation with that whispering voice in his head. His conscience or what remained of his sanity, what Garrus and his krogan friend or the Cabal hadn’t managed to strip from him.

The giant turian eyed him. “It won’t be me personally that pulls the trigger, I’ve been told it’s too much a conflict of interest since you and Tavi are both under my roof and Tavi is my-“ He cleared his throat. “I’m sure you can imagine. …I’m afraid I need a few details from you Cato, when you’re ready to give them, about Garrus. I’ve gotten all I can from Tavi but you know him on a more, ah, intimate level.”

It was easy to forget Tavi was one of that monster’s victims too. Or almost victims, all Cato knew was Tavi had gotten away from him, somehow. He didn’t know if Garrus had raped him too, he hoped not, the thought made him feel sick and the food he’d eaten threatened to come back up. Cato drank from the glass of water that had been set near his plate.

“This isn’t something we have to talk about now,” Crassus continued and Cato could feel the man’s eyes on him even if he didn’t look up to meet them. “Or even today. Or really at all if it’s something you can’t talk about. I understand Cato, and I won’t pressure you into-”

“I ran away from the Cabals.” Cato said, cutting him off. He needed to get this out, he’d told Tavi a little and- and Garrus knew some of it, but Crassus said he could make the man go away forever. Cato wanted that. “I ran away and hid in a cargo ship, the kind that brings food, the non-perishable stuff. I sneaked on and hid behind some crates until I felt the ship stop moving and then I got out. If I’d known it’d stopped on Omega, I’d have stayed hidden inside but I didn’t know that so I got out. No one saw me, I don’t think they did, no one said anything.”

“Do you remember the name of the ship?”

He shook his head.

“What planet did you leave?”

“Dirgeris. I was on Dirgeris when I ran.”

Crassus shifted in his chair. “That’s a long ways away from Omega. A long time to be crammed behind some crates.”

“Yeah,” He was fuzzy on how long he’d hidden too but he remembered feeling weak and shaky when he’d finally crawled out. “I didn’t want anyone to find me. I didn’t want to go back to the Cabals.”

“Tell me about them, the Cabals.”

“The rumors aren’t rumors. It’s all true.” Cato said and his harmonics were clear; that was all he was saying about them.

“By the Spirits,” Crassus swore.

“Yeah. So…so I left the ship but I was tired and sick and stuff. I remember I found somewhere to sit down and just catch my breath. This guy came over and asked if I was okay, I told him no. I was tired and thirsty and I didn’t know where I was. Remember I didn’t yet know I was on Omega and talking to strangers I thought were trying to help me didn’t seem as stupid as it does now. The guy gave me a bottle of water and I drank it. I didn’t know it was drugged. I was stupid. I should have realized the damned seal was cracked but I didn’t even think to check it. It was stupid, so stupid.”

Cato stopped talking, put his head down on the table and put his arms over it. Looking back on it now, he realized how suspect it had been, how the signs he was in trouble had been there from the start and he was just too dumb to see them. Cato heaved a sigh, rubbed his fringe, let one hand trail over his empty amp port. The nodule was sitting safely in the bedroom, there was no point in him wearing it anyway. He still missed its weight beneath his skull and his hand played with the port. He sat back up after a moment, Crassus was watching him silently, sitting exactly the same way he had been and his expression unchanged. Cato couldn’t read it.

“I woke up with my hands and feet tied together and Garrus standing over me.” The young biotic rubbed at his wrists, fingers tracing over the scars left behind from hours of struggling, of trying to cut himself open so he could escape one way or another. They ached whenever he tried to sleep. “The ropes were better than the cuffs. I could move around a little when it was just the ropes. The cuffs came later when… when he put me on the bed.”

“Cato-”

“He made me snort red sand and then he raped me. Every night and sometimes during the day too… Sometimes I fought him, sometimes I didn’t because I was too high.” He didn’t mention that sometimes he hadn’t fought because he’d been in shock over the fact he’d gotten aroused and had even climaxed. “Whenever I did fight, he found other ways to hurt me.” Cato dug his talons into his wrist and Crassus’ hand snapped out and grasped his fingers tightly.  The young biotic let him. “He left me alone a lot and I eventually got the cuffs off, they were this special padded kind, like at hospitals and it was almost easy to get out of them, but he left me alone and I found his sand stash. I overdosed on purpose. I wanted to die. I think… I think I did but he didn’t let me stay that way. I woke up again and he was… so angry. He put away the padded cuffs and took away the drugs. I went into withdraw.”

The young turian found Crassus squeezing his hand- not too tightly- just tight enough for Cato to have something to focus on. He was grateful the man was silent, it made it easier to get this all out.

“I got belligerent, more so than I had been. I told him I hated him I said I wish he’d let me die. He choked me until I passed out. That… that happened a lot. I rebelled the only ways I could. I stopped talking, I stopped eating. I didn’t acknowledge him if he didn’t make me. It made him really mad and he punished me. He cut his name into me so I’d know I was his. I attacked him-”

“Good, good Cato. I’m proud of you for doing that.”

Cato choked on a sob and Crassus squeezed his hand. “I shouldn’t have. I really made him mad. He took me out of the apartment and he gave me to one of his friends for… for I don’t know how long. He was krogan.” The young biotic met Crassus’ eyes. “He did everything Garrus did but he was so much worse. So much worse. I… I don’t want to talk about him, please, please don’t make me talk about him. He’s already dead, I can’t… I can’t-”

“You don’t have to talk about him.”

“Thank you, spirits, thank you.” He wiped his face, banishing the tears that had fallen and took a moment to just breathe. “When Garrus came to get me, I just did what he said. Everything he said. I didn’t want to… I didn’t want him mad enough to send me back to the krogan. I ate when he told me to. I let him bathe me and sleep with me and cuff me and dress me. I didn’t run when he took me out.” Cato swallowed hard. “I didn’t fight him when he fucked me. I became the pet he wanted. I hoped he would get bored if I was good. He told me he’d killed his other pets. I hoped he’d kill me too.”

He glanced up at Crassus and found the man’s mandibles tight to his jaw in a strained expression. He knew he was pathetic, he knew he was weak but it still hurt to see that. He was glad he’d left out the deal he’d made with Garrus at the beginning, how he’d promised to do whatever Garrus wanted, promised to be his companion, if the man only killed him quickly and painlessly at the end. Cato attempted to pull his hand away and the larger turian resisted for just a moment before letting him. The young biotic hugged himself, sitting far back in his seat, eventually pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.

“How did you escape?” The man asked after a while.

“I didn’t.”

“He let you go?”

“No. When Omega was taken by Cerberus, we evacuated with everyone else.” Cato explained. “We got separated. I ended up here and then… then I remembered who I was and that I hated him. I remembered he wasn’t my master; he was my kidnapper and my torturer and my rapist. I hate him. I hate him!”

“I know you do. And you should.” Crassus said and Cato was surprised to hear total acceptance in his harmonics.

“You’ll kill him for me?” He couldn’t help but sound hopeful. “For… for Tavi?”

“Not me personally, but I’ll make sure he dies, yes.”

“Thank you Crassus.”

The giant turian inclined his head and Cato knew he’d keep his promise.


	37. Random Jealousy: Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After his ordeal with the the Evil Garrus, Cato struggles with his feelings. Warnings for mentions of rape, torture and abuse. Also warning for sexual content.

Cato squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the pillow over his head. It helped. It drowned out the sounds coming through the wall from behind his headboard. Crassus’ sounds. Tavi’s sounds… The pillow smelled like Tavi, so did the rest of the bed. Cato remembered his smell from the time he’d hugged the really short turian. Clean, a little like sweat, a little like sex. That alone should have put him off but it didn’t. Probably because it was Tavi and Tavi’s smell and Cato liked everything about Tavi.

_“You know I’m a whore right?”_

He didn’t like that. But probably not for the reasons Tavi was always trying to convince him of. He didn’t like it because it meant sex and sex was bad. Garrus had taught him that.  _It doesn’t sound bad though._  Cato thought, letting the pillow lift a little bit so he could listen again. Tavi’s sounds were so much softer than Crassus’ throaty moans, he had to strain to hear them and he was always left wondering why he wanted to hear them. Cato let out a quiet trill.  _It’s bad. Sex is bad. It’s pain and humiliation and vulnerability and it hurts and it makes you weak and it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts. It always hurts. Garrus always makes it hurt._

Even after everything was said and done, Cato remembered hurting, remembered the ache deep inside him and at his entrance. He remembered the way the muscles in his thighs had burned after they’d been held down and forced open, how his plating had stung after it had been pried apart and how swollen his eyes had been even after he’d stopped crying. Most of all he remembered how raw his dick had felt after Garrus or his krogan friend had forced him to enjoy himself. So Cato knew sex was bad and he knew it always would be. But he listened to Tavi and Crassus, heard them reaching a type of harmony together through their subtones and he wondered what it would be like to experience real pleasure like that with someone he wanted. With Tavi….

He rolled suddenly onto his stomach and re-covered his head with the pillow. It was a bad thought. A very bad thought. Tavi and Crassus were together. Yes, Tavi insisted it wasn’t like that but Cato knew it was. It was! And that was why the thought was wrong,  _bad_. He gave another soft, sad trill. He heard Crassus reach his peak through the wall and knew Tavi already had or was about to. Then he heard the huge turian purring. He purred loudly when he was sated. Garrus had too. Cato hated that. How could Tavi like someone like that? How could he do stuff with someone like that? It made Cato angry at Crassus and then at himself because he knew the man wasn’t anything like Garrus. And because Crassus had only ever been kind to him, soft spoken and calm, understanding.

They spent the mornings together when the huge turian made breakfast for them all- Cato had noticed he cooked all the meals when he was home- and they’d talk about things. The first time Cato had confessed to all the stuff with Garrus. The second time Crassus had confided in him about his abusive parents, the two sisters that hated him and the one that loved him and how she was the only one that mattered to him anyway. Cato had eventually spoken of his times with the Cabals he’d been assigned to, about each new Kabalim and the ones that were kind and understanding of his faults along with the one that had finally made him feel like running away was his only choice for a real life.

Crassus had listened to every story quietly and then held his hands like that first time to help him calm down when he’d gotten worked up. The huge man never judged, never criticized his decisions even when Cato kind of thought maybe he should. The only thing Crassus had ever said that he didn’t like was the stuff about seeing a counselor for all he’d been through and after Cato had freaked out, he’d never said anything about it again. They were friends, of a sort, the big man was still intimidating as anyone Cato had ever met- minus other biotics from the Cabals- but they were friends and he knew he shouldn’t be so upset over what he heard through the walls.

He groaned; they were going at it again and this time Tavi was the loud one and he wondered just what Crassus was doing to him. If it was anything like what Garrus had used to do him… He knew it wasn’t because he knew Tavi actually wanted Crassus. It was different. It wasn’t sex the way that Cato understood it. Tavi was actually enjoying himself for one and he knew Crassus wasn’t cruel for two.

Cato felt something stirring and it took a minute to realize it was his plating spreading apart, opening fully in the span of another minute. He gave a soft whine and resisted the voice in his head telling him to touch, to relieve the pressure. It was wrong and it made him wrong too. Cato didn’t know how long he laid there, listening through the wall, before he became aware his hips were moving against the bed in time with Tavi’s sounds.  He didn’t know how long he laid there listening to the voice in his head over Tavi and Crassus before he gave in.

His hand shook as it delved between his legs and pushed his pants down, sliding into the small gap of fabric and bed and the first light touch made him keen. Not in pleasure. He didn’t feel his hand, he felt Garrus’ hand, the krogan’s hand. He fisted the pillow, pulling it to his face again, his stubby, cracked talons making holes. He concentrated on Tavi’s sounds again, strained to hear them and afterward, touching himself was easy. Cato was still on his stomach and the positon was difficult but he’d always found it more….  _comfortable_  when Garrus had-  _Tavi! Tavi. Tavi. Tavi._  Cato spread his knees and braced his weight on them, lifting his hips high so that he could maneuver against and into his own palm. He pushed his face firmly into the pillow to hide his sounds. It worked. He could be as loud as he wanted to be like that. Cato kept his hand loose and slow because tight and fast was too much like Garrus. And he was thinking about Tavi, who was a whore and knew how to give pleasure.

_That’s wrong. I’m wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this. It’s wrong and it makes me wrong too._

But he didn’t stop. Cato kept thrusting into his own hand until he felt that pressure behind his plating burst. He had to bite into the pillow to muffle his scream as his cum shot out his tip and covered his hand, dripping onto the bed. His knees gave out from under him and he laid in the mess while he caught his breath. Not the first time it had happened, different context entirely, but not the first time.

He did know how long it was he rested there in that state of numbness before he started crying. Exactly three minutes. He’d just used Tavi the way Garrus had used him and he felt so… so dirty. Cato pushed himself up, took off his shirt and used it to clean cum from his hand, belly and lower plating. He kicked off his pants too since some of the mess had spilled inside them. Then he got out of the bed and stripped all the sheets off, taking the warm comforter and pillowcase too. He piled everything in the floor before he lay back down on the bare mattress. The room was hot but Cato was very cold.


	38. Mourn Me: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crassus mourns someone he loves. From an ask. My rp partners are determined to break my heart.

> Leave a “ **Mourn Me** ” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character mourning your character’s death. 
> 
> ((For the record, I’m saying now that our three-way thread will not end this way. Are we clear? Good.))

He’d only been quick enough to save one of them and in moments of painful honestly, Crassus wished it hadn’t been Cato. He could appreciate all that Tavi had done to keep that boy safe up to a point. Excluding dying. Spirits why did he have to die for that stupid boy? 

He’d made Garrus pay and he’d taken his time doing it. He’d let Cato watch and been proud when the young biotic had gleefully helped him. Another problem that monster had caused that Crassus would have to fix. Too bad he was perfectly happy letting Cato remain a broken, ruined shell of a turian. Much the same as him without Tavi. Different, but the same.

Crassus threw back another drink. There were things to be done. He still owed Tavi a favor. The head of that human captain. Then… then Crassus would try to find his family, wherever they were, tell them their son had died protecting a boy that couldn’t save himself after he’d been too slow to save them both. After that, Crassus didn’t know what he’d do. 


	39. Second Attempt: Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Cato's second attempt at suicide during his captivity with that Evil Garrus. Warnings for mentions of rape, drug use, torture, and a past suicide attempt.

# E

[turianflaps](http://tmblr.co/mq_rrViBKfg29NkFmffaaCA)

Cato laid on his side and watched his master sleep, studying his face. Garrus didn’t look like much with his eyes closed and his scared face wasn’t as severe either but the young biotic was still afraid of him. Afraid of what he was capable of. Cato stared intently and felt his heart begin to pound. Garrus- he reflected- was like one of the Spirits of the Deep. A monster just under the surface of calm blue, long arms waiting to reach out, to tangle, grasp and pull beneath the waves, long fingers squeezing the life out of some hapless traveler as his boat sank. Cato knew he was one such traveler.  He knew he’d been ensnared and knew he was caught forever in an endless loop, a game of catch and release where he broke the surface, took a breath, and was pulled down to drown again.

He’d tried to drown himself once, he knew what it was like. The water filling his mouth, sucked into lungs that retained it like sponges to be squeezed when he’d coughed. Cato let his eyes trail away from Garrus to the open door of the bathroom. The tub was in there, where he’d tried to drown himself. A horrible way for any turian to go and he was thinking about trying again. He was going to try again.

It wasn’t uncommon- in the last few weeks at least- for Cato to slip from the bed as his master slept and go sleep in the tub. In his safe place that for some reason he couldn’t quite remember didn’t  _feel_  like a safe place anymore. He had a few ideas as to why. His seizures had a tendency to black out sections of his mind, to pull a blanket of fog over days that simply couldn’t be found in his head anymore. Sometimes entire days, sometimes just a few hours and occasionally the lost time came back to him like bits of a dream. But in regards to the tub, he didn’t feel quite as safe there anymore.  He still preferred it to sleeping in the bed with Garrus. Cato left the blanket behind as well as his pillow, they were technically his master’s and he didn’t like anything of the man’s touching him when he was trying to stay calm. It made it harder and if he panicked and had a seizure he knew he’d wake right back in his master’s arms again.

Cato climbed naked into the empty tub, curling back on his side. In the light of the bathroom he could see all his scars. Not every single one but the most of them.  One that encircled each wrists, he’d sort of given those to himself when he’d tried so hard to get out of the cuffs Garrus had put him in at the beginning of all this and he had matching ones on his ankles too. There were several scars down his arms and torso, cuts from that scalpel and worse things, most of those he’d gotten from the krogan friend. His legs were in similar shape. Garrus’ full name was carved into the arch of one hip, curling letters, flourished to look like a design, an owner’s stamp. Cato thought it was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen. But at least it was cleanly done and hadn’t gotten infected. ..

He couldn’t say the same about the scarring on his genital plating, given to him when the krogan had used some contraption he’d never even known existed to hold his seam open so he could- Cato whined to himself. He didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to stop thinking about it. But the scarring made it hard to pretend it had never happened.  He tried though. He tried every day.

The young biotic reached forward and turned on the tap for the water, sitting there as the tub filled around him. He let out a little sigh knowing he’d have to go back to the bed after this, Garrus would get mad if he found out Cato had slept in a wet tub again. The man didn’t want him getting sick apparently. Couldn’t play with his pet if he was too ill to participate. Not that Garrus cared  _if_  Cato participated…  The tub filled and when the water level reached his chest, Cato turned it off. He still sat there silently, idly running his hand through the water, watching the swirls and ripples, losing himself in the motion.

He was so done with everything Garrus put him through. Everything. Night after night after night of being hurt, of being forced. The lingering threat of being returned to the krogan for more discipline. .. He couldn’t take it anymore. It was easy to lie down in the water, easy to breathe out one last time before he breathed in. His lungs rebelled and he fought against the instinct that tried to propel him upright. Garrus was sleeping and this was his only chance.

 _He won’t miss me. He’s a liar. He doesn’t love me or care about me or anything. He just likes hurting me._  Cato told himself, feeling his lungs burn and a pressure build on his chest. It hurt. Holding his breath hurt and he took another gulp of water into his airway.  _And when I’m gone, he’ll find someone else and he’ll-_

The young biotic burst out of the water, coughing and sputtering, spitting water over the side of the tub. Garrus would find someone else. Garrus would replace him with another pet. Cato pictured a turian just like himself. Maybe a normal turian, someone without the overhanging stigma of biotics, someone normal and healthy with a family and friends and people that actually cared about him and he realized that he could save them simply but not doing what he’d been trying to do. Because if he was Garrus’ pet, then he was the only one being hurt.


	40. Outing: 2168: Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tiny bit of fluff. Cato's mom takes him to visit his grandpa, Primarch Vesimir Fedorian

Momma fixed his coat, redoing all the buttons he’d tried to do himself and Cato smiled up at her. “I almost had it this time.” He chirped proudly and momma just smiled at him. “Where are we going momma?”

“To see your grandpa.” She told him simply, standing back up and smoothing down her coat. She held out her hand and Cato took it. “He’s been asking about you again.”

Cato hopped in place. “Grandpa!” He loved going to that huge building and seeing his grandpa even though he was always so busy and could only ever say hi for a few minutes.

“Yes. Are you ready?”

“Uhuh! I got- wait! I forgot Remy upstairs!” He turned from his momma, stumbling a bit as he rounded the corner and ran to his room, grabbing the small stuffed animal off his bed and tucking it under his arm as he ran back down the stairs. His hand was on the railing, he didn’t want to fall again.

Momma was smiling but her mandibles did the shaking thing meaning she wasn’t all the way happy. “Try not to leave her somewhere random this time, okay?”

“I won’t!” He promised and then they were out the door. He went around the side of the car and buckled Remy in before climbing into his seat and waiting for momma to help him with the straps. Her mandibles were doing the shaking thing again.

“Ready?” She asked again.

“Ready!” Cato chirped, grinning big. Grandpa! He was getting to see Grandpa!

It was a long time before the car stopped and Cato had napped in his seat, one hand thrown out and touching Remy. He woke up when he felt momma pulling the straps off his shoulders.  

“We’re here? We’re here!” He squirmed out of her hands and out of the car, so excited he was ready to dash away and up those big white steps.

“CATO!” His mother yelled and he stopped at the bumper of the car right as another one drove through where he’d been about to run. Momma was there, picking him up and squeezing him so tight it hurt. “You do not run out in the middle of the parking lot! You know that Cato.”

“I’m sorry momma, I just wanna see grandpa.”

Momma pulled his head down onto her shoulder and covered his short fringe with her hand. “I know baby, I know, but  _you_  know better than to run off without me.”

“I’m sorry momma.” He said again and just let her carry him up the steps. He didn’t say anything when he realized Remy had been left in the car because he realized momma’s mandibles were way tight to her jaw which was what came after the shaky thing when she was really upset.

….

“I’m sorry ma’am but Primarch Fedorian isn’t seeing visitors today.”

“I’m not a visitor. I’m his daughter and this is his grandson, he’s expecting us.”

“There’s nothing on his itinerary saying-”

“Did you not hear me say I’m his daughter?”

Cato sat in the little seat, his legs swinging back and forth while he waited. Momma was getting mad. He was getting bored and with Remy in the car he couldn’t play.

“Would you just call his office and  _ask-_ ”

“I can’t do that ma’am. You have to understand. We hear this type of story all the time and the Primarch is a very busy man-“

“You think I don’t know that? I have to make an appointment to see my own father.”

“Ma’am-”

“Momma? Are we seeing grandpa?” Cato wondered, coming over and tugging his mom’s coat.

“I’m working on it baby.” She told him, reaching down to pet his fringe as she stepped away from the check-in desk. “I’m tired of this. I’ll call him myself. For spirits’ sake this is ridiculous…. Dad? We’re outside your office. …Twenty minutes or so….Yes I’m serious…. No, apparently I’m not on your itinerary for the day… I’m not giving you an attitude dad, I’m frustrated with the run around and Cato’s getting anxious. He wants to see you. …Excuse me?… Digeris? Are you serious? Dad, he’s been waiting for days to get to come see you and you’re not even- …What’s that got to do with anything? …. Fine. Fine. You know what dad?  _You_  make an appointment to see  _us_  and we’ll see how that works out.”

Cato stared up at his momma, mandibles fluttering. “Momma?”

“Come here baby,” She said, all sad apologetic sounds as she picked him and started walking him out. “I’m sorry. Grandpa’s really busy.”

“But… but he promised!” His eyes were wet and he hugged momma tight as he keened.

“I know baby, and he’ll keep that promise, just… just not today okay? Now,” She carried him to the car, buckled him in again. “What do you want to do instead? Anything you want Cato, and you’ll have it.”

He thought for a few moments, his momma looking at him expectantly as he reached out and played with Remy’s ears.  “Can we go to the movies?”

“Sure we can.”

“And the park?”

“I’ll take you to the big one.”

“The one with the jungle gym that looks like a star ship?” Cato asked hopefully.

“Of course.”

“And… can we go eat pizza?”

“You pick the place and we’ll go there for supper.”

“Okay.” He nodded.

“Anything else baby?” Momma stroked his fringe and cupped his mandible lightly.

“Can…Can I call and talk to grandpa?”

Momma’s mandibles did the shaky thing. “Before bed, when he’s had time to work the stick outta his butt.”

Cato laughed. “Momma!”

“Well it’s true!” She kissed his foreplate. “You can call him tonight. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“We good to go then baby?”

“Good to go momma.”


	41. Consequences of Choice: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That drabble a little bit ago? Where Crass killed a dude and C-Sec grabbed him? This is a follow-up.

(post[ this](http://crassussativum.tumblr.com/post/121196976074/tavianalviamore-theres-a-drumming-noise) drabble)

He still managed to feel like a giant sitting in a C-Sec interrogation room redesigned with krogan detainment in mind. His legs didn’t fit under the table, his knees touching the edge uncomfortably. Crassus shifted in the seat minutely. He’d been left to wait an hour already, though not technically alone with the obvious camera in the northwest corner of the room and the not-so-obvious one in the southeast corner.

Crassus didn’t fidget as much as he wanted to. Too much wiggling around would be a sign of nerves he didn’t have and an indicator or guilt he didn’t feel and being too still somehow managed to convey the same thing minus the feeling of guilt. Crassus moved naturally, shifting occasionally and allowed himself to look as bored and distantly uncomfortable as any normal person in his situation would be. But inside he was raging, wondering where he’d been sloppy enough to leave a trail back to his identity. He wondered which body had been found… He wasn’t going to build himself up with worry. Not when he knew the Keepers had handled any messes he may have left behind. Still, he worried, the possibility was always there.

The door opened –finally- and a human C-Sec officer strode in. “Commander Sativum, I’m sorry to keep you waiting for so long.” She said, coming over and holding out a hand.

He took it gingerly, wary of their thinner bones. “I wouldn’t mind so much if I knew what this was about, officer….?”

“Officer Knowles,” She said, taking that chair opposite his own. “Well it’s nothing  _bad_ ,”

“Of course not.” He said, confidence in his tones that she couldn’t hear.

“Traxus- the patrolman that picked you up- noticed your rifle and ran you through the system.”

 _As well he should have._  Crassus hummed; again she couldn’t hear his subharmonics.  “And?”

“And your Citadel permit is very much expired.”

“I just renewed- ah, the one for my homeworld.”

Knowles nodded. “We saw that in the system, yeah.”

“And I couldn’t be told this rather than be brought in to the station?” He asked, allowing a little normal frustration to sound through.

“Well see, when you were run through, Traxus saw that you live in Tyseri ward and not the Presidium where you were found.” She said with an easiness that he had to admire. “So what were you doing up this way, at this time of night, with your rifle?”

“Oh.” Crassus said like he saw the reason for the general suspicion, and he did. “My former partner lives up here,” Which he did. “I was taking it to him for a few repairs.”

“This late? Really?” She asked.

He nodded. “I had to wait for him to get out of work and his mate insisted I stay for supper.”

“Okay. I need his name and where he works so I can check that out.”

Crassus flared his mandibles out in a facsimile of incredulousness.

“We just have to cover all the bases, Commander Sativum, with the type of weaponry you were carrying. You understand.”

“Of course,” He sighed. “His name’s Mavic Virim and he works as the new Spectre Requisitions officer.”

Knowles looked up. “Y’know, I’ve heard of him from some of the other officers. Is he really the asshole everybody says he is?”

It was a test to see if Crassus really knew him, and not a very well hidden one. He smirked, playing along. “To Chellick maybe, but then if he has the stones to take one of his shitty guns to Mav, he’s asking for the attitude.”

Knowles gave him a tiny smile. “Okay Commander, you’re good to go. Get that permit straightened out so we can avoid doing this again.”

“Of course, officer.” He said, standing.

The woman stared and he flicked his mandibles at her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to stare, you’re just really, really tall for a turian.”

Crassus gave her a small smile of his own. Then he left. He didn’t worry about calling Mavic to create his alibi for the night, the Carthaan born turian would vouch for him just fine, true or otherwise.


	42. Rebuilt: Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in the same universe as that first Cato Drabble. And fair warning, this one is dark. Warnings for rape, torture, cannibalism and more things I can't remember. Cato's gone off the deep end.

Cato sat on the floor of Razek’s big industrial freezer with another man’s head in his lap. Just the head, the body was long gone and he’d eaten one of the legs the night before last. So having another man’s face in his crotch wasn’t as scandalous as it could have been. Still a little bit scandalous with the head not being attached to a body and all but Cato didn’t care. Old Cato might have. New Cato, not so much. And he liked New Cato. He was brave, he wasn’t a biotic, he was still mated to Razek and he didn’t have any of his old scars. This was good because he also didn’t have the unwanted one on his neck that matched the teeth of the head in his lap. The bastard.

Cato hooked his thumb under the mandible and pushed/pulled until he heard the joint pop. Then he smiled. That was surprisingly satisfying. The boy slipped his thumb under the other mandible and giggled when he accidentally snapped the mandible off and it fell into his palm. There was no blood and that wasn’t satisfying at all.

“I’d like it better if you screamed.” Cato told the head, parroting words that were months old. Spoken to him, not by him. Then he sighed, lifted that mandible to his mouth and chewed on the edge of it. Not as tasty as the steaks from the other night. Too cold, not enough meat. Still kind of fun to gnaw on though so Cato kept chewing on it the way varren nibbled on bones. That made him giggle, too.

Lots of things were fun now, New Cato reflected to himself. Partying at Afterlife was fun, talking to his bodyguards was fun, getting fucked by Razek was fun- well that had  _always_  been fun. Eating Crassus had been lots of fun, delicious too. Painting his colors on his face every morning was fun, he felt like an entirely new turian and he was. He was New Cato. Oh! And calling himself New Cato was  _so_  much fun. Grizz, his favorite bodyguard, said it was pretentious but he’d laughed when he’d said it so Cato hadn’t had him hurt for it. And because Grizz was his favorite but don’t tell Bray that!

Cato bounced the head in his hands a bit, like a ball, and stuck the mandible in his pocket for later. Maybe he’d show it to Razek. Or maybe he’d keep it as a secret toy, he didn’t know yet.

“You wouldn’t like me so much anymore.” He told the head, staring down into eyes that weren’t as bright a green as they had been. There was a film over them, making them dull. Like something dirty and unwashed. Like how Crassus had kept him. “I know you didn’t like me much to begin with, but I liked you. You took me out of the Cabal and gave me to Razek. Yeah I know, you thought he’d kill me, didn’t you?”

Crassus’ head, obviously, didn’t answer.

New Cato wasn’t deterred. “You did!” He exclaimed, like finding the answer to some great secret, all excitement and glee. “You thought he’d rape me and kill me and eat me like he does all the other pretty boys like me.”

The boy waited for a reply this time, growling when he didn’t get one. “Well you got one out of three. Razek did kill me. ..And he’s sucked my dick so that’s kinda like eating me. But you got the big one wrong. I guess that’s why you took it on yourself to rape me, huh?”

Those dull green eyes just stared and Cato wanted to pop them out. Maybe he would.

“You liked it when I screamed.” He growled. “You liked it when I pretended I was your  _precious_  Mavic so you didn’t feel as guilty. I only did it so you didn’t make me bleed. … You liked forcing me to cum.” Now he was angry, pissed off, remembering how it felt to be at Crassus’ non-existent mercy. “I hated that vibrator. I still hate it. I hate anything like it that comes near me. That’s something else you’ve taken away from me. Something I could have enjoyed with Razek that you  _spoiled_.”

Cato’s thumbs hovered over Crassus’ eyes, shaking. “Did you have fun?!” He screamed, voice high, quaking with rage. “Was it fun to save me and then force yourself on me over and over for something I had no part of?!”

The boy surged up and pinned the head to the ground, hands squeezing, thumbs hovering closer to those eyes. They lowered, talons touching that strange sticky film. He was panting hard through his teeth, still growling.

“I’m glad Razek killed you.” He said lowly. “I’m glad he raped you before he did so you knew how I felt. I wish he’d kept you alive and raped you for a week straight like you did me so you knew what it was  _really_  like. But he didn’t. He did better. He filmed it so I’d always have it… You know what I’m gonna do tonight Crassus?” He asked, waiting a moment for a reply, growling when the head only stared up at him. “I’m gonna to go watch it… I’m gonna go watch it and I’m gonna pretend it was  _me_  making you pay. And then I’m gonna sleep with Razek and know I’m really safe, and when he fucks me I’m gonna think about how he hurt you and I’m gonna cum so hard.”

Cato stood up, head cradled in his hands gently now, thumbs pulling back to run along the fringe blades at Crassus’ temples. He carried it back over to the bag it had been in and nestled it inside. “Then, next chance I get, I’m gonna come back here, and I’m gonna fuck your mouth like you did mine and I won’t stop to let you breathe. Does that sound familiar?” Cato smiled and sealed up the bag with the tape he’d brought. “I’ll see you soon Crassus.”


	43. Building the Collection: Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of the same warnings as last time but let's toss one in there for murder and gore too. Same verse as the last drabble.

Cato giggled as the asari dancer tossed aside the turian that had gotten too handsy with a swift biotic push. The turian fell into a table, drinks toppling over and spilling on him. He got up in a huff and spat several slurs at her and she lit up with biotics again. Cato gave a purr when the turian rounded on her and then Grizz was there with his gun leveled at his face. More slurs, lots of swears and the boy giggled again. He was  _perfect_ , was even an Invictian. Cato couldn’t ask for anyone more perfect since Crassus was already dead.

He stood as the turian walked by, still talking shit, Grizz trailing him, grim-faced.

“I’ll play with you if she doesn’t want to.” Cato offered, using that look and tone he knew had a serious effect on Razek. The one that was all lust and need and zero inhibition.

“You a whore?” He asked and Grizz shoved him from behind.

“Get the fuck out. Now.”

Cato gave a coy smile. “Not in the sense that you gotta pay me, but I can be whatever you want me to be.”

Grizz flapped his mandibles. The Invictian looked him up and down. He was too small to really pass for Crassus but he had the right colors, the right eyes and Cato’s imagination could fill in the rest.

“Think you can handle me?”

Cato threw the question right back at him with the same look and tones as before. The Invictian grabbed his arm and pulled him in close; Cato melded against his side, purred and watched Grizz level his gun again. The boy shook his head.

“But my friend comes with. To make sure you don’t hurt me. He won’t join in or nothing. Unless you want him to.”

“Whatever, kid.” The Invictian said and pulled him along.

“I’ll sit this one out.” Grizz said gruffly. Cato smirked at him as the other turian pulled him out of Afterlife.

He didn’t let the man fuck him, he only let it go as far as being positioned against a wall, his pants opened and pushed down, hands pulling at his hips before he struck. Cato slammed his head back hard, heard the other turian’s nose break and a scream of pain. He was shoved forward and punched as the man pushed away from him. Then Grizz was there, throwing the man to the ground and pinning him there with his foot. Gun to his head.

“What the  **fuck**  is your problem?!” The man on the ground screamed.

“Shut up.” Grizz barked. “Cato. You okay?”

“Uhuh.” The boy said, pulling his pants up, closing them and patting down his shirt.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

Cato stepped from the wall. “He’s got something I want. Will you hold him down for me please?”

“What? What the fuck kid?! I don’t have anything! I don’t even have any creds!”

The boy flicked his wrist and his omnitool sprang out. “Grizz? Please? I don’t want to cut his throat by accident.”

“Cut my-?! What the fuck? What the fuck? GET OFF ME!”

The guard had finally done what Cato asked, holstering his weapon and pinning the man properly with a knee in his back and his hands trapped.

“Thanks. Now hold him really, really still.”

“Wait! Wait! What do you want? I’ll give you anything you want just let me go! Kid, kid, c’mon, let me go.”

“That’s not my name.” He said, kneeling, grabbing his fringe and yanking his head back.

“Okay. Okay. Sorry. What’s your name? What’s your name?”

Cato liked the sound of the man’s fear, how his harmonics spiked and jumped and rolled. He liked how it made him smell too. “Cato Praxis.”

“Praxis? Oh shit. Oh shit. Please! Please, what ever the king says I’ve done, I swear I haven’t. Please let me go!” He was too afraid to struggle now and Cato loved how his mate’s name had that affect. “I’ll prove it! Please just give me a chance to prove it! Oh Spirits please!”

“Shut up.” Grizz ordered and looked to Cato. “What’s going on? Is he on Razek’s list?”

Cato shook his head. “I told you. He’s got something I want. Please don’t let him squirm.” The boy fit his omniblade under the man’s mandible.

“Stop! Stop please!”

He stopped. If he cut off that one, he’d have a matching set and Cato didn’t want to forget which mandible belonged to whom. Crassus’ was bigger and heavier, sure, but… “Turn his head for me.”

The man screamed and Grizz hesitated.

“Grizz. Do what you’re told.” Cato snapped. The old guard obeyed and the boy quickly cut off the mandible he wanted. The Invictian howled and screamed and cried and begged to know why. Cato recoiled from the noise.  “Go ahead and shoot him, please. He’s too loud.”

Grizz cursed vehemently, pulled his weapon and killed the turian on the ground before he stood and grabbed Cato’s arm, pulling him away from the body. “I need to know, right now, what that was all about. And don’t you talk to me like I’m just you’re guard. Talk to me like I’m your friend Cato, because I am.”

The boy whined, cradling the severed mandible, blood making his fingers sticky and gross. “He was Invictian.”

“So?! Cato, that was unprovoked, anywhere but Omega and-“

“The man that raped me was Invictian. Crassus.” Cato said. “I cut off his mandible too. And I cut off the old sand dealer’s mandible. I collect them now.”

Grizz stared at him in shock. “…Does… Does Razek know?”

Cato tilted his head. “That I was raped or that I’m cutting pieces off people? He knows. He killed Crassus ‘cause of what he did to me and he helped me kill the dealer.”

The old guard flapped his mandibles.

“What?” The boy asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re different Cato.” He said. “Since you’ve come back, you’ve been different. You’re not… You’re not a boy anymore.”

“I wasn’t a boy before,” He said, confusion showing. “I was nineteen, Grizz.”

“Yes but you were… kind, sweet. Too naïve for your own good. And now you’re… Cold and cruel.” He pointed at the body. “There was no reason for this.”

“Razek does this stuff all the time! And worse stuff!”

Grizz’s mandibles fluttered. “Yes, yes he does. But you’re not Razek. You’re Cato.”

“I’m  _New_  Cato.” The boy giggled.

“Stop! That that! It’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Grizz snapped at him, making Cato jump. “I was there when we broke the door down and  _Cato_  was dead. I was there when Razek spaced  _Cato’s_  body! You are not that boy! So who the fuck  **are**  you?!”

He’d backed up, hands shaking, while Grizz yelled at him. “I’m… I’m Cato. I’m Cato.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying! I’m Cato! I swear!”

Grizz’s mandibles flapped again and he looked…. Cato chirruped at him. “You are not that sweet boy. I don’t know who you are but you’re not my Cato.”

The boy blinked up at him. “Your Cato?” He was really confused now. That didn’t sound right at all. “What’s… what’s that mean?”

The old guard growled at him. “Forget it. Go back to Afterlife. Now.”

“But you said ‘yours’. Why would you say-”

“Go! By the Spirits, just go!” The guard shouted at him, pushing him in that direction.

Cato looked down at the body one last time and then fled. But he wondered if Grizz was still his friend.


	44. More Talks with Cato: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back to the verse where Cato is healing after his ordeal with Evil Garrus

The boy was on his way out the door to meet Velox when Crassus stopped him. “I just want to have a quick conversation with you. I won’t make you late for your…”

“It’s a date.” Cato chirped happily. He was wearing a leather riding suit, black and yellow, a helmet dangling from his hand. And he was smiling. “Our second. That’s good right?”

Crassus inclined his head and guided the boy over to the couch, sat him down and then sat on the little table across from him. “I spoke to Velahari last night,” He led in. “And we’re both a little… concerned about you.”

“About me?” The boy asked, mandibles flickering for a moment and his dark eyes grew big. “W-why? I’m doing so much better with things, you said so yourself and so did she.”

“Yes, you are and you should be as proud of yourself as we are.” The big turian praised him. “We actually talked about you and Velox.”

“Velox.” Cato repeated and Crassus didn’t like the way his voice had gone low. “Is this the… the  _s-sex_  thing again?”

Asked the same way a child might ask if he were going to get a shot at the doctor’s office and Crassus inclined his head once. “This is the sex thing again.”

The boy sighed, looking down at the helmet in his lap. “I don’t… want to have sex with him.”

“Alright.”

“I mean, not yet, maybe someday but not yet.”

Crassus let out a breath of strained relief.  That was at least expected. “Alright.”

“I mean…” But Cato was still talking.

The bigger turian felt a sense of dread at the boy’s tones. He could hear the secret in them and it made his stomach twist into knots. “Cato, sweetheart, you can tell me anything. I’m not going to judge or get mad-” He hoped. Probably more mad at Velox than him anyway. “-I’m here for you to talk to. I want you to talk to me.”

The boy glanced at him and then down again and Crassus could see the flush climbing up his throat. “W-when we got home yesterday and you napped and we did too? We didn’t. Not till later. We um…” Those dark, innocent eyes flicked up to meet his. “We played around some. We were both naked and… and um, hard. And we kissed a bunch.”

Crassus thought it odd that Cato’s tones changed about the kissing more, like that was the real secret. He hummed to himself. “Whose idea was it?”

“It was mine.” The boy said and he heard the truth in his words. “I like kissing Velox. He’s really good at it.”

“No. I mean… The naked thing.”

“Oh.” Cato’s mandibles fluttered against his jaw and he looked away guiltily for a moment. “Mine too? I wanted… I could feel him. So I wanted to see him. And… and maybe the shirt I was wearing wasn’t long enough.”

And that was where his guilty tones dropped off. Crassus realized the boy had planned it. He sighed, put his head into his hand, his other one scraping over his fringe. “Did you fool around the night you slept in the garage with him?”

Cato shook his head. “We just kissed then. I mean we… we were both um, hard and I wanted to, but Velox said that was way too fast when he’d just kissed me for the first time.”

One of Crassus’ mandibles twitched.  _Not too fast that they’d started touching each other the next night_. He kept the words to himself. It wasn’t like he wasn’t guilty of the same sort of behavior. “Did he kiss you first?”

The boy shook his head again. “No. I…we…” He watched Cato struggle for words. “It was the same time? We both wanted to.”

“Mutual.” Crassus supplied for him. Then he sighed. “You really like Velox don’t you?”

“Oh yes.” Cato chirped. “He’s my best friend.”

“What about…?” He gestured vaguely to the boy. “All the touching?”

“His hands are warm.”

“Oh?”

“…Garrus’ were always cold. Velox’s are warm. I like them.”

Crassus regarded the boy for a few moments. Watched as he looked to the door and fiddled with the helmet in his hands. “Cato…”

“I really like Velox.” The boy interrupted. “And I know what you’re gonna say but me and him already talked.”

“…Alright. What am I going to say?”

Cato met his eyes. “You’re gonna tell me to go at my own pace and that it’s okay to not want to go past what I’ve already done with Velox. And you’re gonna tell me that no means no, if it’s from me or him, no means no and it means full stop and I have to stop when he says no just like he has to stop when I say no. I already know that. And so does Velox. We talked. We don’t… we don’t want to rush. He really likes me too.”

Crassus leaned back on his hands. “That’s exactly what I was-“

“And that if things get out of control, to come to you or Tavi or Mavic or Velahari and you’d fix it.”

The big turian chuckled. “Have that all figured out, yes?”

Cato shrugged. “It’s what you guys have all been telling me since day one. You each word it different but you all say the same thing. I’m not stupid.”

His mandibles flapped against his jaw. “None of us think you’re stupid, Cato.”

“Then please stop treating me like a little boy or something that you have to keep fixing. I’m not a victim. I’m a survivor. Velox says so and he’s right.”

Crassus stared at the boy long enough to make him fidget again. Then he sighed. “You’re right. You’re one-hundred percent right.” He said. “And so is Velox. You are a survivor, Cato.”

“I know.”

“And I’m sorry for treating you like-”

“I know.” The boy said and he smiled. “I understand why. But I’m okay. I can do this stuff. I can be normal.”

He nodded. Yes, the boy could. He’d come so far already. “May I hug you, Cato?”

“Uhuh.” The boy got up and wrapped his arms around Crassus’ shoulders, squeezing him as tight as his too thin frame allowed.

“Just…” Crassus let him go, stood up too. “Have fun today. Be safe. And if you’re going to be out late, please let me know.”

Cato nodded. “I will. …Will you promise me something, Crass?”

“I will. What?”

“Stop… stop trying to intimidate Velox.”

The big turian laughed. “I assure you, it hasn’t been a conscious effort.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed slightly and Crassus was honestly proud to see it. “I don’t believe you.”

“Then I promise to stop.” He leaned down and kissed the boy’s fringe the same way he tended to kiss Taren’s. “Go on. Before he gets antsy waiting for you.”

The boy hugged him again and was out the door before Crassus could say another word.


	45. Teaching Caution: Cato and Mavic Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember what verse this was from. I think the Evil Garrus one, pretty sure.

“Marcian- Cato, hold up some so we can talk.”

“Can I drive again?” The boy asked, jogging toward the car with the bright blue child’s seat in the back. He recognized it as Hunter’s.

“Can you drive and talk?”

“Well  _yeah_.”

Mavic laughed. “Then go on. Drive us to my place, yeah?”

“Okay.” The boy trilled excitement, hopping into the car.

“Buckle up.”

“I  _know_.”

“So do it before you start my car.” Mavic deadpanned, sliding in and buckling himself up.

Cato went through the motions, buckling in too, checking the mirror, adjusting the seat and starting the car. He backed out of the parking garage carefully and then drove them out onto the street. Feeling Mavic’s eyes on him through every second. “So um… what are we talking about?”

“That kid. The human.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

“What about him?”

Mavic was careful with his words, but he didn’t mince them. “He’s a mess. For real. I don’t mean the homeless thing. I mean, clearly, right?” He chuckled a little, shook his head.

“I was homeless too.” Cato pointed out.

“Yeah. And I get it. You were hiding. Staying safe.”

“So’s he though.”

The smaller turian nodded. “Yeah, but. You were hiding from Garrus. One  _master_.” He spat the word and saw Cato flinch. “That kid, he’s hiding from a lotta masters that were maybe slavers, y’know? And from worse.”

“Worse?” Cato didn’t know there were things worse than masters or slavers.

“Cerberus. Y’know them?”

“Uhuh. They’re why Garrus made us leave Omega but how um, how do you know-”

“Cuz my doc friend said he had a Cerberus tattoo on his shoulder.”

“What’s that mean?” The boy asked, looking over at him as they paused at a light.

“Means that kid is dangerous. Means maybe he’s lying about the masters and the ship he fucked with.”

Cato shook his head. “I don’t think he is.”

“Y’know? I kinda don’t either. Maybe not about that. But he’s lying about something. And I know you can tell there’s something not right about him. The way he acts and talks. I’m not just calling him a kid cuz I don’t know his name.”

“He said he didn’t have one.”

“That’s varrenshit.” Mavic scoffed.

“That’s what he said.” The boy insisted, driving out into traffic again.

“Well, it’s still varrenshit. And it makes my point for me. I want you to stay away from him.”

“But-!”

“Shut it, Cato. Stay away from Cerberus folks. That’s a no discussion thing, yeah?” Mavic pinned him with a glare. “Look, I’m not gonna tell Crass the details, okay? But I am gonna say something to him about today and you know he’s gonna lay down the same law. So stay away. Mark that alleyway off your route.”

“I don’t wanna do that! He needs help! Like I did and I’m all better now. Maybe if-”

“Cato.” The voice was low and in that tone that the boy didn’t like because it made his plating crawl. There was something  _not right_ about Mavic too and it had just reared its head. “Mark it off your route and don’t go there again. You see that kid, you turn around and go the other way. He’s Cerberus and he’s no good for you or any of us. Understood?”

The boy mumbled something.

“I said, understood?”

“Yes Mavic. I understand.”


	46. Things That Go Splat: Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That Evil Garrus verse again. Cato flees.

Cato knew better than to go  _running_  through the vents when a single misstep could send him careening to his death. That had almost happened a few times already… It didn’t help the vents were small in places, short. Not like him. He was small, but he wasn’t short. But in this instance, running was good –safe- if it meant he got away from-

There was a crashing and a curse behind him and the boy skidded into another vent opening to his right. It was shorter than him and a tighter fit than the one he’d just left but that meant it was safer.  _He_  wouldn’t fit if Cato barely did.

The boy crouched, flattening himself against the metal wall, hands over his mouth, biotic sparks crackling over his skin. Cato squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to muffle his sounds in his palms but his heartbeat was so loud –thunderous- he knew he’d be heard. And worse, Cato could hear footsteps getting ever closer.

“Come on out Pet…”

His whimper was caught by his hands but it still sounded so loud.

“I know you’re here…”

Blue light filled the small place and Cato willed it to go away before it got him caught. His biotics had never helped him before and they wouldn’t now.

“When I catch you, I’m gonna-”

That was the last the boy heard; he bolted up, smacking his knee on the too close walls when he stumbled at first, a cry of pain leaving him. That had  _hurt._  Hearing a shout behind him, Cato scrambled forward on his hands and knees, feeling something snag his arm. He screamed, striking out with the talons of his other hand and hitting the jagged edge of something used to support a pipe. The boy cried out in pain again as it sliced his palm open, but he kept going. He had to keep going before  _he_  caught him.

Cato made a lot of noise, racing through the vents like that, and there were a few times he thought he saw faces in the openings of other vents. Other ductrats like him, but none came to help him. But then… that was almost expected, most of the ductrats in this section were children. Little-little. The boy was trying to protect them as much as himself which meant he had to keep going, even though he didn’t hear  _him_  anymore.  It was the least he could do for all the safety the vents had offered him. This now- running, crawling away as fast as he could because he’d been spotted- was a fluke. Probably his imagination because he was pretty sure Garrus was dead. Crassus had promised-

Misstep. Cato pitched forward, face striking metal, hands abraded on dirt and sand and metal. Nothing he could hold onto, nothing to stop his momentum. The yawning blackness swallowed him whole in one big gulp.


	47. Enemies Closer: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three separate drabbles better presented as one. The Cabal has come for Cato after he's healed and moved on with Velox. Crassus won't allow them to take away his surrogate son. Featuring Mav.

The Kabalim sat in the passenger seat of Crassus’ car while her second drove them to Cato’s therapist. She read through the reports along the way meticulously, learning several things about the boy she only barely remembered. For one, Crassus hadn’t lied to them, medical reports and doctor’s writings showed that Cato’s amp had indeed been killing him and the only option had been to remove it. That had happened three months ago, since then his seizures had lessened to the point of almost going away completely though he still had them. She also learned that Garrus had lied to them about most of what he’d told them. Cato hadn’t been a roommate, he’d been a captive. There were pictures in the files of the boy far too skinny, unhealthy, covered in too many scars to count. Further medical reports outlined what had been done to him, the ways he’d suffered. She closed them, sickened by the knowledge.

“What’s up?” Arrutis asked next to her.

“Our friend Cato has had… an unfortunately eventful year away.”

“I find most years after desertion are eventful. Until it ends at the noose.”

“He’s lucky to be alive after what that monster did to him.” She said softly, directing him to take another street into the heart of the upper wards. They were only a few minutes away from Cato’s doctor.

Arrutis hummed. “Well, he shouldn’t have run off.”

“Don’t blame the victim, Arrutis. It makes you look like even more of a prick.”

“Victim? Yeah, right, that little shit was nothing but a coward always calling for his mamma.”

The Kabalim explained what she’d read and he changed his tone, pulling up outside the therapist’s office. Cato- a little healthier looking than in those pictures- was waiting outside, trotting over with a smile when he saw the car. 

“Have a care with him,” She told the two in the back. “Unharmed is best, this time.”

They nodded and Cato opened the back door. “You’re late, I just texted to ask what was going on. Well, I haven’t sent it yet, guess I don’t need to. I thought Velox was picking me up?” He said, not looking until he started to sit. “Who-?!”

Biotics flared all around and Cato found himself trapped in a field, a hand reaching out and pulling him in. One sleeve shoved up and a needle stuck in his arm. And then nothing. 

The Kabalim had turned in her seat to look at the boy properly. “He’s grown.” She said without any hint of fondness.

....

 

Mav offered his own shrug. “I like this job. My mate and my son are happy here.” But he let it leak through his tones that he wished he could do more than the admittedly little that he was, but one of them had to show some sense and deniability. “Good meeting you, Omega, nice to have some good friends.” He gave the woman a little wave, went to his desk and sat down. Messaged his mate, he’d be home late or not at all, depending on how things went.

The Kabalim set aside the latest datapad containing Cato’s psychology records, new and old. The boy had always been a mess, coming from a single-parent home, even if he’d lucked out being born to an affluent family. That eezo disaster with his mother had put a wrench in things. Put the boy on a type of watch-list for biotics, and put his grandfather -a newly appointed Primarch at the time- under a heap of pressure that had nearly forced him to step down. But the old bastard had had pride and a noxious sense of duty. He should have just taken the out when it had been given to him rather than tying everyone’s hands together when Cato had first presented with biotic abilities at six. Six… The Kabalim couldn’t imagine having a student so young, so powerful. The Spirits had smiled on Cato and he’d spat in their faces, calling his gift a curse at every turn, outright refusing to learn how to control his power. Granted, the Kabalim new that facsimile of an amp hadn’t helped matters, but nearly all biotics had headaches and the occasional blackout. Few had the seizures like the boy had began to have. Few were guaranteed to burn out and the boy had only started earlier than most. 

 _If he’d just done what was asked of him!_  She fumed to herself, remembering the reports of how Cato had refused food, had refused to sleep until exhaustion had taken him under. He’d never stopped asking to go home, the infuriating whelp, each Kabalim over the years had made note of that. It was no surprise to her that he’d been little more than a slip of a boy by the time he’d finally made it to her Cabal when he was seventeen. Of course, they’d continued working with him, giving in to his self-denial and doling out other punishments in hopes of breaking that deplorable behavior. It hadn’t worked, instead the ungrateful boy had taken his first chance to run on his first ever shore-leave. He was nothing more than a petulant brat in her eyes.

When the boy started twitching in the bed, idly pulling at restraints and then waking, suddenly screaming, she didn’t react but to sit back and watch. Blue light flooded everything, the scent of eezo overpowering, and that was without an amp. If he’d only taken the time to learn control…. The Kabalim sat there, one leg crossed over the other, hands cupping her knee and let him relive the past. 

 

....

The door opened again and by this point Crassus fully expected to come face-to-face with his CO. His mandibles quirked in displeasure when he met the stare of the Kabalim. “I already told you we wouldn’t be speaking without-”

“Your legal council present, I know.” She leaned on her hands on the back of the chair opposite him. “I didn’t come in to question you, mister Sativum.”

“ _Commander_  Sativum.” He corrected pointedly, doing his best not to glare.

“Maybe not for long.”

Crassus thinned his mandibles at her, not appreciating the insinuation and the very possible outcome in the least. “Was there something you wanted?”  _Or did you just come in to rub salt in the wound?_

“Cato woke up.” The Kabalim said smoothly, tones making it clear that she  _was_  rubbing salt in the wounds, embedding it deep.

“I know,” He hissed at her. “I heard him.” Just barely, through the thick walls, but he’d heard Cato screaming enough to know what it sounded like.

“Don’t take that tone with me, I had no way of knowing-”

“Varrenshit.” Crassus shot back lowly. “You knew exactly what would happen.”

“I did  _not_.”

The giant turian sat forward suddenly, the cuffs and chain at his wrists pulling sharply at the loop in the table. He bared his teeth. “You’re a liar, and you can’t hide your tones for shit.” 

The Kabalim made a dismissive gesture. “That’s all I came in to tell you.” She said, letting go of the chair back and starting toward the door. “Oh. One other thing. I’ve spoken with the facility on Thessia you sent Cato to for his surgery. Imagine my… surprise when I learned the Sativum that accompanied him wasn’t you.”

Crassus’ mandibles twitched.

“Getting your baby sister to do your dirty work,  _mister_  Sativum, is not what I expected from you at all.”

When he bared his teeth again it was with genuine threat. “Stay the fuck away from my sister.”

“She has information I may need and I’ve never been to that campus. I hear it’s beautiful in the spring.”

The chains rattled and protested as Crassus tried to stand. “Stay away from Taren. You go anywhere near her and I’ll-”

The door opened again and this time it was his CO, the aging turian looking none too pleased. “Sit down Crassus, now. You,” He jabbed a finger at the Kabalim. “Out.” 

She left, Crassus stared after her. “General, Sir, she-”

“Isn’t going to get as far as the end of the hall.” The general assured him. “We have your back, son. Always.”  _Fucking Spirits-damned Cabal._


	48. Without You: Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cato misses Velox.

Cato woke in the middle of the night, curled on his side knees to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. It took a while to remember where he was and why he was there. The Cabal had found him, arrested Crass and Velox and then tried to take him away. They hand’t, not really, not in the sense that the ship he was on was taking him back to Digeris and the Spirits knew what kind of punishment.

But they had effectively taken him away from his life here, away from his surrogate family, his friends. Away from Velox… And that was what hurt the most. Crassus and the others would be fine, they had the Blackwatch and the Alliance and things. Tavi, he knew, would go into hiding, whatever that meant. But what about Velox? What was his protection? Maybe Crass would take care of him and maybe circumstances would let him. Cato didn’t know. He didn’t know how these things worked. He didn’t know what would happen.

The boy curled in tighter on himself and sobbed. Sola said they couldn’t see each other until things with the Cabal and Blackwatch settled, but what if they never did? What if he never saw Velox again? What would he do? Velox had so quickly become a huge part of his life that Cato honestly didn’t know how to feel without him around other than it felt like a part of him was missing. And that was Velox’s fault because he’d said touching forelates was sharing pieces of their Spirits and they did it so often… The boy had started to think of his Spirit as part of Velox’s, unable to exist without that vital piece. And now he was gone and the boy wasn’t allowed to see him. Cato sobbed harder, hiding his head under his arms. He just wanted to go home, back to his family and Velox and the other pieces of his Spirit.


	49. Nightmares and Dreamscapes: Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a verse were Cato never left the Cabal, at least not until things blew up in his face and he had no choice. Warnings for blood and mentions of abuse

Cato dreamed. He dreamed he was home but not  _home_. He was avoiding that place today, just needed a little time to… decompress from all that. From Velox. Dius slept beside him but if he dreamed, the boy didn’t know. He was in his own mind, in a place not so safe.

There- the swing-set he’d jumped from, the chains that had caught his fingers and broken them. But the chains here were made of the severed fingers of other children that had jumped and been snared. Grabby digits that caught and held and rendered. The dip in the ground that had been displaced dirt caused by feet kicking off, trying to gain momentum for speed and height, wasn’t a dip but a shallow pool of blue. The blue dripped from the chains, such as they were. The boy moved on from the playground. He didn’t like it there.

The ocean air- salt and coolness and this scent he’d never put a name to- smelled rancid. Fish and muck and shallow water that lapped at his feet as he walked the beach. Sand that had been next to white, some color off in one direction or another, was grey like bone. Cato could feel masses under the surface. Elongated, thin, hard like…. like he didn’t know. It didn’t move right under his feet. Sand had give and this didn’t. He quickened his step, closer to the water, despite the smell. Blue so blue it was black, rolling waves, a crush of feeling, familiarity. This was home, this was what Cato remembered. And then the waves receded, back  _back_ , the sand that wasn’t sand stretching out as far as his eyes could see. The ocean gone, barren land in its place. Grey, endless grey. Cato continued on.

Digeris was a place he’d never return to, but in his mind… The path from home to that place hinted at by the changes in color, the wavering of the gossamer barriers, the shaking of the foundations that usually meant he was waking up… Please let him wake up… But Cato didn’t. His feet followed the path, his arms around his middle and squeezing. The cast was a hard, unforgiving presence that dug in, seemed to have barbs instead of plaster. Cato itched at it. That had always helped. He was so cold, always so cold and nothing helped with that.

Arritus waited but he was- Cato had to look away. Had to step around the body with its misshapen skull, flat on one side, so much blue beneath it. Still, somehow, Arritus spoke to him, called to him. Begged him to finish what he’d started. A hand caught his ankle-  _please kill me please make it stop hurting Cato I’d do it for you-_  The boy screamed and tore himself free. It felt like miles before the hand let go.

He stopped to breathe, collapsing against a wall. Smelling soap and water, sweat. The boy had barely looked up, trying to get his barrings, sometimes he passed through the realms so quickly- Hands pinning his arms, the grip so tight he couldn’t get the air to scream. A knee shoved hard between his thighs. A face he trusted right in front of his, breath hot, foul _.You know what I’ve done with other boys your age? Hm? You want to? They begged. Begged me to stop._ Cato showed his throat like he had then, surrendered because it had made it all stop then. And it did now too.

The boy fell through the wall into dirt that was wet but not mud. Velox was next to him, eyes wide and dull, in his own wet dirt. A burst of sound and Dius was there too. More wet. A pool of it, spreading, covering him, drowning him. Cato grasped at them both but while he sank, they stayed on the surface. Their eyes, grey and yellow, cutting through all the wet and finding his. Their mouths moved-  _It’s your fault._


	50. Flew the Coop: Mav and Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a throwaway verse were Cato was a fullblown Cabal turian.

Noises started the panic. As much as Cato tried to convince himself that the shuffling scrape of feet outside his door was just a guard… Panic dictated otherwise. They knew he was here. Forget what the giant Commander and Deus had said about falsified records, about being safe,  _they knew he was here_  and they’d come to get him. The boy whined. Arritus would be with them, he would see the medical report had been fudged and the beating Cato would get for it… So it was panic and fear that decided for him.

Cato left the hospital bed, pulled on his clothes and took down the camera in the corner of the room with a bit of biotics visualized in his head like a whip since he was too short to reach it otherwise. It started sparking and smoking, the little red light at its base blinking out. He was still trapped, the door still locked. There were no windows in this room. Cato knew he had to wait for someone to come…. And then someone did, Cato didn’t look at them as he attacked, seeing only a vague turian shape that was too small to be one of the nurses or Deus or that Commander. His biotics were a hammer swung swiftly and surely at head height. He heard a cry of pain, saw the small body fall to the floor and then he was running as fast as he could out of the room, down the hall, past guards and people and out of the Compound. He headed right, he didn’t know why, but he knew right was the direction to take and he didn’t stop running.

The big Commander might not care enough to come after him- never mind that revelation about shared abuse, he was normal, they had nothing in common- but Deus would. Cato knew. Deus was good, if things were different, if Cato were normal like him they could’ve been friends. But he wouldn’t risk it, wouldn’t risk him, based solely on what could have been.

Cato took another right, tearing full speed down a crowded street, bumping into people, saying he was sorry when he could, cursing under his breath when some shoved at him. Then, out the corner of his eye, he saw a child hoisting them-self up into a vent above the floor in a shadowed spot between two doors. It was brilliant, the perfect hiding place. Cato backtracked, waited until no one was looking and hoisted himself up too, sliding under the vent cover. He wasn’t expecting the darkness, or the weak grating-like floor, or the lack of any hand-railing, he stumbled and the yawning blackness swallowed him. 

 

....

Mav, at a little over five feet tall and a hundred and seventy pounds- all muscle thank you very much- was used to not physically measuring up to his peers. Fuck, Crass, his best friend, topped him by more than two feet  _and_  a couple hundred pounds, also all muscle. Most other turians had a good foot of height over him. Being the short one was the usual thing, being overlooked and underestimated was the usual thing. Until he dropped his call sign- Mayhem- and then folks paid attention, if only for his reputation alone.

But the Primarch… Shit. Now that was an underestimated man. He was barely taller than Mav but it was his presence that made him seem fucking huge.  And, y’know, being the damned Primarch. Fuck, from demeanor alone it was hard to believe Vesimir Fedorian was Cato’s granddad. Mav guessed that shit wasn’t genetic but learned. The boy- what little Mav had seen of him- had been jumpy, a fucking pyjack in turian plating, his eyes darting all over the place, wide and wet. The Primarch though… The man was rock steady. Not that Mav couldn’t see the family resemblance. Dark plating and skin, depth-less eyes, angular face, pointed mandibles, sharp little nose… He was the boy in forty or fifty years with the swirling electric purple of Parthia tacked on. Fedorian sure as shit wasn’t a pyjack masquerading as a turian, he was turian to the core. Mav had to admire that, and, y’know, being the fuckin’ Primarch. He dropped his usual attitude, yanking on and holding to the facade of a proper turian himself. Obedient and respectful. It was even partially genuine.

All the man wanted was his grandson, apparently, the last living member of his family. Which was one of many things not leaving the room when the Primarch did. Crass and Mav had both given their word on that.

“I was planning an operation… A trip, if you will, to Digeris.” The Primarch said. “I haven’t been to see my grandson in years, far too many. A lot of that couldn’t be helped. A lot of it was my fault… More than a lot. With the way things are… Colonies going dark left and right… His mother gone…” He gave a weak flap of his mandibles. “I know it’s using my position wrongly, selfishly for my own gain. It know it goes against everything we stand for, and believe me, I don’t condone my own actions, I can’t. He’s… Cato’s my last piece of my only child. The last piece of her mother. Time is short for us all gentlemen and it’s getting shorter every day.”

They both nodded.

“I wanted to spend the last of my time with my grandson.” And then the Primarch’s demeanor utterly changed. He drew himself up and flared his mandibles, baring his teeth, those dark eyes burned. Mav had to respect the  _shift_. “And you tell me, not only is my grandson  _missing_ , but his last several yeas on Digeris have been filled with  _abuse_.” The man thumped the datapad on the table with a closed fist and several things rattled, jumped, and fell over. “Proof! Documented  _proof_  that this had been happening and nothing had been done.  **Nothing**  had been  **done**  to  **help**  him.”

Primarch Fedorian didn’t yell, he didn’t even raise his voice, it was all in his tones. The severe disappointment, the sadness and outrage on behalf of his grandson.

“Primarch, Sir,” Crass began in that voice of his with its borderline separatist accent somehow more obvious than the Invictian tattoos on his face. “We were unaware until-”

A silencing gesture shut him right up and Mav wished he had that kind of power. “I know you were. I know. The blame isn’t with you. It’s with our Hierarchy and the Cabals and the separation-animosity- between the two. I had hoped Cato would be spared it all.”

Mav glanced at Crass, who flicked a mandible at him in silent, unseen communication. The Primarch wasn’t the kind of man either of them had expected. 

“I want everything you’ve gathered on my grandson.” Fedorian said, demanded actually. “Every report, every file. I want to see every room he walked through. I want to speak to everyone he spoke to. And I want to help you follow his trail. Help me bring my grandson home.”

“Yes Sir.” It was hard to say who spoke first. 


	51. Cleaning Up: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a verse that unfortunately went nowhere but I'm still proud of this drabble. Warnings for blood and death. One of the victims is a child, Crassus doesn't handle that well.

“Get in there and get out in ten.” The order came through his headset and Crassus gave a silent nod and a non-verbal sound to signal that he understood, pushing open the door of the small downtown market. He didn’t acknowledge the two other men standing looking a lot less tense than they should for the bodies on the floor. Crassus took it all in at a glance. Three adults, one bent over the counter, blood pooling under him. Salarian. Shot in the chest. The second just inside the door, facing out, shot in the back, human. The blood was more liquidous. Crassus stepped over him and around the spreading pool. The other two…. Turian. Male and female, the second…. A child.

The giant Invictian tightened his mandibles but said nothing. He hated cleaning up after children, his sister’s face in his mind every time and that was why he’d- Something he didn’t think about. He and Taren had been saved the ramifications of that and it was why he did this now.

Crassus pulled the backpack off his shoulder, took the shotgun out of the folds as he stuck plugs in his ear. Gestured the two men to move and got gun-shot-residue on the salarian’s hands with a handful of shots that didn’t quite empty the clip. Then he pried the fingers loose, let the gun fall naturally. 

“Give me your gun.” He said to one of the two men and it was placed in his gloved hand. He put the gun in the human’s hand and repeated the process. “Did you shoot them with this?” He jerked his head toward the parent and child. 

The man nodded. He’d killed a child. Crassus didn’t comment on the wrongness of it. Wishing he worked with more krogan, they understood… He looked to the human. “Put his shoes on. Run through the blood and then put them back.” The human gave him a look and Crassus bared his teeth. “Do it.”

He gave the human time, cleaning behind him, getting rid of anything that didn’t fit the picture he was trying to paint, but he got caught up with the child. Little thing. His mind showed him Taren again. He almost asked for something to cover her with but that wouldn’t…. That wouldn’t fit what he’d been told to do. Crassus knelt and did his best to move her father, to put him in a position that shielded her, put their hands together. Said an entreaty to the Spirits over their bodies. Stood, cleaned around them again, wiped away every trace of himself and the two men at the front of the market who were starting to get antsy with his silence and the prayer he’d murmured. Crassus paid them little mind. They were the killers, not him, not the human he was framing. 

The giant Invictian stood, pulling his backpack over his shoulder again. It had taken him seven minutes and sixteen seconds. “Hit the silent alarm,” He said as he walked out the door. “And don’t call me again for children.”


	52. With Him: Crassus Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a verse where Cato grew up with his family and all is well until it's not. Taking place after Cato is kidnapped with his bodyguard, his rescuers, Crass and Mav, have their own problems. Warnings for mention of rape and abuse

[@turianspeedjunkie](https://tmblr.co/m7KYIUU3_B036CyNylr8uPQ) (you’re mentioned.)

He was murmuring in his sleep again. The soft fearful words dragging Crassus out of sleep with raking claws on his conscience. He rolled over to face his mate, the other man sprawled on his back, limbs twitching and flailing. Another nightmare. He’d been having them more often again, they came and went, lasted a week or a few days, sometimes months. Mavic- the Mavic he’d loved and mated- slipped a little further away each time. Crassus still loved him, of course he did, the smaller man was his mate, would be until they both failed to draw breath…. But a fractured Spirit eventually tore the body apart too and he’d been watching the pieces come off for the last few years.

“Mav,” He whispered before he touched him, a hand curling gently over his fingers, feather light. He had to touch there first, anywhere else and his mate would come awake with murder in his eyes. They’d done that to him. Taken away the waking smile and replaced it with fear that lingered even after the mangled bodies Crassus and his unit had left turned to nothing but bones. “Mav, baby. Wake up.”

The man twitched, head turning on the pillow, another voice coming from his mouth. Crassus wondered if they’d always been there, the  _others,_ Mav wouldn’t talk about them and they wouldn’t talk about it either, they just pretended to be Mav. It had taken him months to notice, too long in his opinion, he should have noticed his mate was that badly…damaged sooner. His mate had been so afraid, still healing from the ordeal and then scared of what was happening to him because of it. 

The torture, the worse things that had happened to him, his Spirit had snapped and where there had just been Mavic, his mate, his truest friend, there were more. Two more, to be specific. Mav, who laid next to him, who was awake the most often, the strongest of them, and one that called himself Mavi. Crassus saw him rarely, he was still so scared, still healing after all these years. His was the voice that was heard now.

“Mavi,” He whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. “It’s alright, just a dream.” He wanted to draw the man into his arms and hold him but he didn’t. He couldn’t, not when the nightmare was happening. It was all due to their latest assignment, the rescue of the Primarch’s grandson and his bodyguard. Mav had seen what had been done to the boy and Crassus had watched helpless as his mate started slipping away again. He’d watched helplessly the last time too, as his mate was hurt and brutalized. He’d never make that up to him…. “Mavi.” His voice cracked.

“C-Crass?” Bright sun colored eyes slid open, a darkness in their depths, a shadow. A  _bad_  nightmare then. His mate let out a keen and curled toward him. “I-I-I was dreaming about… about…”

“Shhh,” Crassus murmured, drawing him in close, kissing his foreplate. “It’s over, my dear one, it’s over. You’re safe.”

“Safe. You’re here.” Mavi sounded so different from his mate, young and frightened, unsure, wary. It scraped across Crassus’ nerves. “You’re here. I’m safe.”

“You are.” He assured, mandibles tight to his face as he struggled to purr comforting tones.

“I was dreaming about the boy.” And his voice changed slightly again, Mav this time. The shifts had become so fluent lately and Crassus didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing or what it meant. Other people were starting to notice, too, and that, he knew, was bad. “I know what happened to him. Don’t have to read the files to know. Little thing, so kind, they probably-” He shook his head against Crassus’ chest. “Glad we killed them. Wish we could do it again.”

“So do I.”

“You dream ‘bout it?”

Crassus had his own nightmares. “I do.”

“Yeah, me too.” Mav said quietly. He was totally still but for is breathing, resting against him, head under his jaw, mouth on the mark on his throat. “You think… you think he’ll… be okay? I wanna… talk to him. I was thinkin’ maybe if he had someone that had been through somethin’ like him…”

“The Primarch has cloistered him up on the other side of the compound,” He pointed out, running a hand up and down his mate’s back. “Vohen’s with him and he experienced it all too.”

“Yeah but…. He’s dealing with his own shit. That kid needs someone that can focus on him. Like you do me.” Mav glanced up at him. “He needs to talk to another survivor.”

That begged the question of if Mavic had survived what had been done to him. It was arguable, when Crassus had spent the last few years watching him slip away. His mind, his body soon to follow. The thought terrified him. Crassus squeezed him close, breathed in the scent of him off his fringe. “The Primarch will never let you talk to him alone. There’s going to be an army surrounding that boy soon. No one will get within fifty feet of him if Fedorian doesn’t allow it first.”

“I don’t need to talk to him alone,” Mav pointed out. “I just want to. There’s gonna be some… There’s gonna be stuff he doesn’t want anyone to know but he’ll still need to let it out.”

There were things Mavic wouldn’t talk about even knowing Crassus had witnessed most of it. Bruises and blood, tears and screams, so much begging…. Nearly death itself. “In time, Mav, I’m sure.” He said and only because he had a feeling it would help his mate too. 

“Yeah… Yeah, okay.” He went quiet, nuzzled close, and Crassus thought he’d fallen asleep until Mav started kissing his throat, nipping a path up to his mouth. He kissed his mate, holding him, and then pulling him over him. It was always like that, after a nightmare. Mav would talk to him about anything but the dreams, and then he’d crawl over him, they’d make love and reaffirm their mating and then they’d sleep again. This time was no different but for the lingering thoughts of the Primarch’s broken grandson and shattered bodyguard. 


	53. Wanderer: Mav Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, we've made it to the current verse I'm role-playing in. Cato is Zero, the mate of a terminus lord that's essentially brainwashed him from childhood. Mav is the Blackwatch agent that takes it on himself to bring the boy home seventeen years later. The plan fails. Mav is captured and tortured(warnings for mentions of that) the Lord has no choice but to uproot his people and his prisoner is coming along. There's something on the ship even a blind man can see.

Sometimes it was difficult to know if he was awake or asleep. The aches and pains, the agony in his head, were there at all times. Mav was certain you didn’t feel pain in dreams, nightmares might be another story, he was almost certain of that. This, all this, was certainly a nightmare but more real than surreal. He’d thought himself a hero or a dashing rogue, racing off to the Terminus without backup or allies. Just his ship, his weapons and his wits. They’d never failed him before. What a cruel awakening….

He was awake, he decided. The one thing that left him when he slept was the hum in his head, the whisper, the near to constant companion for the last too many years to count. Since before the last time he’d been a prisoner, he was certain. There were so few things to be certain of now, here. Pain was a certainty. Less a companion or more an obnoxious hanger-on that wouldn’t get the hint and fuck off. Mav could deal with the bruises and cuts, the broken bones, the insides that felt scrambled more often than not. It was the absences that had left the real marks. 

Mav used to close his eyes against the hum in his head, sometimes the darkness helped to quiet the noise. Maybe if he hadn’t commented on the little lordling dressing to match- a quip about children playing in their parents’ clothes- the Lord himself would have let him keep them for that small mercy. But the old bastard hadn’t cared for his honestly well-meant joke. Maybe his humor had been too dry.

 _“I don’t care for your eyes on my mate.”_  The Lord had said so softly that Mav almost hadn’t heard him.  _“Hold him down.”_

Sitting on a cot in his new cell, Mav felt a swelling of anger and indignation. Two weeks ago he would’ve been able to put up more of a fight than screaming and squirming while the Lord did the deed himself and a single burly K held him down. Two weeks ago before the torture had really started and they’d starved him to nothing but plate and bone, he’d have killed every man in the room, the Lord included. As it was, they’d all walked away, and how weak he’d been, crying without tears on the floor.

The anger bled away to leave him chilled and weaker still. Standing from the cot, Mav’s legs wobbled and shook, underused, almost atrophied. Not that there were any plans for escape anymore, not in the depths of space. There were worse ways to go than decompression but not many, truth be told. He’d been wrong though, he hadn’t died in that castle but he’d probably die in the next one. Mav wasn’t sure he cared for the reprieve, well laid plans and all that.

He stumbled from the cot, feet scuffing the floor and almost fell before he righted himself. It was a lot of fumbling in the dark and cautious steps until his hands met the wall. Not quite smooth and cool to the touch, Mav spread his hands and tried to learn the room from feel alone. He scratched a mark with a talon trimmed to the quick so he’d know where he started.

 It was a ten-by-ten room, he discovered, passing the mark he’d made. One door, no windows, his little cot, a chair and a toilet. Mav made the circuit again. The wall seemed cooler under his touch and distended in places from what he could tell. It had been a warship from what he knew so it had probably suffered some damage over the years. Of course, the size of the room and lack of windows led him to think it was an inner room. Mav had tried to count steps and turns as the G’s led him but every time he’d been made to stumble he’d lost count. They’d made him stumble a lot, just for fun, just to laugh as he struggled to find his feet again. Two weeks ago, he’d have killed them all. 

Mav felt another flare of anger and the wall seemed to warm under his hand and lift to meet his palm. It pulsed. He jumped back with a gasp, tripping over his own feet and landing on his ass, the back of his head hitting the frame of the cot. The hum in his head roared and stretched, the whispers joined the cacophony and the pound of his heart. He’d have squeezed his eyes shut to stop the noise but not a lot of good that would do him now.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” He told the hum and the whispers, his own voice raw. “Let me… let me think.” Let him breathe, more like, and slowly he did. Mav stood again, hand on the cot for help. He reached for the wall. It was smooth and cool. Just a wall like any other.

Except for the divot where he’d pushed his talon in to leave a mark. Mav ran his fingers over it, mandibles drawn in tight. He could have sworn he’d left that to the right of the door, next to a hinge. It had been the best place, a smart place. Directly across from his cot. Mav left the wall and walked backwards until his back met another wall. He stepped to the right, then again and again, felt his knee brush the seat of the toilet. Mandibles tight, he retraced his steps over the floor, hand in front of him. His fingers touched the warm wall. Mav flattened his hand. Searched, but found no divot. Had he not….?

He bent at the waist, dizzy for a moment as his head shifted down, and walked to the left this time. The end of the cot caught his shin after a few steps. Mav put it behind him and walked forward. He felt the edges of the door, found the hinge, spread his fingers. Something scraped across the floor to his left, a grinding sound, like someone sitting in the chair there and it protesting the weight. He looked as if he could see and scolded himself for the foolishness. Mav turned his head back forward, palm flat to the wall beside the door. There was no divot, just smooth, warm wall.

Mav repeated the process a number of times, how many he couldn’t say, each time scraping a new mark into the wall only to find it gone a few moments later. Again and again it seemed to happen until he wondered if he’d ever scratched the first mark at all. He was exhausted, clearly, or dreaming and dreaming the hum in his head too. Mav walked backwards to the cot until it hit the back of his shin and sat down on it. Arms over his knees and head resting on them. He was tired, too tired to just be dreaming.

Something scraped across the floor again, sounding much closer than the chair to the right of the door and across from the toilet. “Fuckin’ rats is just what I need.” Mav muttered to himself. He jumped when one of the furry little pricks ran by his ankle, yanking his foot up and preparing to stomp it down.

Something gripped his ankle to stop him. Cold, steel fingers. Mav screamed at what he saw climbing from beneath the cot.


	54. Little Lordling: Mav Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the Lord's successfully moved his people and Mav's managed to find his niche among them, Zero does something unexpected. Warnings for mentions of murder and gore.

Resting with his back to Murk’s chest, Mav struggled to listen to him sleeping. The steady in and out of his breathing, the soft barely there snore… Things that calmed him, lulled him to complacency. Maybe this was what broke him. The gentle caresses and quiet whispers over the broken bones and worse that he’d suffered. Contentment over worry and fear. A better trade by far, sure, but maybe just as insidious. Mav rubbed the sockets where his eyes had been, struggling to picture Murk’s face. He’d seen him for a moment or two during that first desperate attack but it had been a hectic fast motion blur of adrenaline and bravado. They hadn’t met again until after the Lord had taken his eyes and by then Mav had already forgotten his face. When he took ops knowing he’d probably have to kill scores of people, it helped not to actually look at them. Didn’t help the nightmares but he was going to have them anyway.

Dark, almost black plating, that Terminus white stripe across his nose, green eyes… No, someone else had had green eyes. Blue? He thought blue but Mav wasn’t sure and somehow it didn’t seem right to ask. Brown? No, Zero had brown eyes, big and warm and so deep that Mav had seen his Spirit in them. Maybe that was when he’d started to believe again and not with all that shit with the Wanderer. Spirits, he didn’t even want to think about  _that_. He couldn’t sleep as it was.

Zero was why he couldn’t sleep. What that kid had done… By the Spirits, nightmare fuel all on its own. At least he hadn’t seen it. Mav could imagine it though and he’d seen what angry biotics could do with their powers. But then add in the emotional convolution of an abused teenager- he didn’t care if anyone disagreed on that fact, Zero included- and shit, it was no wonder there was only a wet smear of red left in the barracks. A hollow husk of a body broken apart at the molecular level and then scattered to the winds. Or the walls in this case. By the Spirits.

The kid hadn’t been hurt and neither had Sola, somehow, someway. Mav would thank the Spirits for that mercy alone had he not begged her not to go. Maybe he should’ve gotten on his knees to plead with her. Maybe he should have gone to the Lord and exposed the assassin for who she was. He’d given his word though, had promised neutrality for her sake and Zero’s and Murk’s and so many others. All the things Mav was, all he’d been and done when he had worn the mantle of  _Mayhem_ , he’d still always been a man of his word like his father had raised him to be. It was against what was left of his wretched Spirit to go back on it. Sola had damn well better thank him for that, and for that matter, so should Zero.

Mav rubbed the sockets again, pushing on the spots that ached. If he’d still had his eyes, if he’d still been of any use, he would’ve helped Sola do away with the Lord in his signature bloody way. They’d take the others and Zero away from here, give them real lives. Take the boy to Palaven or Parthia, wherever the Primarch was, and let him play at being a prince instead of the little Lordling, a tyrant in the making. Spirits, if only. Mav knew a pipe-dream when he had them, he’d lived one for years before all the shit finally collected and made him see how he’d wasted himself.

“Please Spirits, keep him good.” Mav murmured the prayer to himself and felt Murk shift behind him in his sleep. “Please.”


	55. The Lord's Mate-Alternate Cato Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Subverse drabble featuring Zero, in a sense. Not the Zero we know, but the one that could’ve been. This one's long and has smut. Paeter is a character written for this drabble and currently I don't know if he'll show up again. Hell, I don't know anything about him yet other than he's Blackwatch.

“You’ll be a present for my mate.” The Lord was saying, tones vaguely disinterested but underlined with something the undercover Hierarchy agent couldn’t discern. Some little hint of wan fondness. “He’s been sad and lonely since I had to get rid of his….friends. The poor boy. He could use a new pet. Maybe you’ll make him smile for me. ”

The last was spoken more as a command than a hopeful thought. Paeter swallowed hard, mandibles resting tight along his jaw. For the Hierarchy, he told himself. Infiltrate and liberate. The boy, if it was who his superiors thought it was, was the priority.

“I’ll be a good pet, my Lord.” He said softly, not daring to meet those cold pitiless eyes. A pet wouldn’t dream of it. He kept his pale eyes on his feet.

“Yes. You will.” The Lord said, taking him by the arm and leading him through the halls. Long halls, barely lit but for the occasional stripe of emergency lighting on the floor. They stopped in front of a door and the Lord put his hand to the haptic interface. “My sweet Zero doesn’t speak anymore but you’ll know if he doesn’t want to play with you. Do try to encourage him. Gently.”

There was threat in that last word and Paeter nodded his head obediently, slipping through the door as it opened and then closed behind him. The Lord out of sight, he felt like he could breathe again. Until he looked up and saw the boy. Young man, really, if their intel was right, but he looked so… Paeter didn’t have proper words for the small, malnourished thing that sat on the end of the bed. The boy- it was hard to think of him as a young man when faced with the sight of him- was one of the darker turians he’d ever seen, brown plating looking nearly black in the light of the room. His huge eyes endless pools of melted chocolate, the white markings along his nose and eyes an accented flavor. Paeter could see the family resemblance even with the wrong paint. It was those eyes, the line of his jaw framed by mandibles just a little too big for his face.

His sunken face, the agent noticed. The boy was probably twenty pounds underweight for his age, if not more, and so small besides. Paeter guessed he’d be around six feet tall when he stood but he was so thin to look smaller, too look younger than twenty, much younger. He swallowed down a lump of pity and stepped toward…Zero.

“I’m… I’m your new pet.” He said, trying to remember his role. He’d lost it there for a moment, thinking about the wrongness of this, he’d lost it for a moment thinking about just grabbing the poor boy and hauling him through the door, far through the jungle to the shuttle and then the Blackwatch evac ship that awaited him out in orbit. He’d lost a moment daydreaming about killing the Lord slow and bloody for what he’d done to this boy in particular.

The boy that was shaking his head no, large eyes wet at the corners like he was trying not to cry and failing. Paeter took another step, and another until he loomed over the seated boy that just stared at his chest, head still shaking back and forth. This close, the agent saw bruises all over his naked body and the empty biotic amp port at the base of his skull. He’d doubted, just a little, who this boy was supposed to be until he saw that. The agent knelt in front of him slowly. 

“I’m your new pet.” He said again, staring up into those dark eyes that were terrifyingly just as pitiless as the Lord’s- No. He looked again. They weren’t. They weren’t empty or cruel or cold like the Lord’s at all. There was warmth there, and endless sadness. For the Hierarchy…. Paeter licked his lips. “I’m-”

The boy slapped him. The agent blinked in surprise, mandibles flopping along his jaw. It hadn’t hurt him the least bit, but staring at Zero, he could see tears starting to gather in earnest. “I’m-” The boy slapped him again, hard enough to turn his head this time.

Paeter sat back on his heels, hands in his lap. Well then. There would be no  _encouraging_  of this boy, gentle or otherwise. He’d clearly been broken, taking him back the Hierarchy and the Primarch might do more harm than good. It still had to be done. It had to be. Kidnapping someone so high-profiled couldn’t be allowed to stand, even seventeen years later. And maybe, just maybe, the boy could get some much needed help. Paeter sighed.

Zero had leaned away from him, legs up on the bed under himself as if preparing to bolt. The agent looked up at him and saw the scars over his throat. Bite marks, talon marks, a half severed mating mark on the side of his neck-had the Lord done that?-, and a single surgical scar down the center of his throat. Paeter blinked again.  _My sweet Zero doesn’t speak anymore,_  the Lord had said. Didn’t, or couldn’t, the man wondered. When they’d found Mav’s body, his eyes had been gone, expertly removed from his skull. Paeter feared to think…..

He rocked forward on his feet again, reaching toward the boy. Zero opened his mouth in a hiss, mandibles spread, but no sound left his mouth. The agent could see inside the cavity and his heart clenched. The Lord had taken his vocal cords and his tongue. “Spirits,” Paeter swore, settling back again. “Spirits, you poor boy.”

Zero’s mandibles fluttered, drew in, fluttered outward again. He sat down, arms around his knees and stared at him with those bottomless eyes rimmed in tears. Paeter licked his lips again, gestured to his mouth and throat. “Did the Lord do that to you?”

The boy flinched and looked away and that was his answer. Paeter swore to the Spirits again. Fuck this cover. He wasn’t going to allow the boy to wait for some other torture. “Cato Fedorian,” He said, catching that dark stare. “I’m taking you home.”

There was some sound, some little sound that conveyed sadness and grief and relief all rolled into one and then the boy’s arms were around his neck. Not an attack, a hug, and Paeter felt his form trembling as he sobbed silently, felt the wetness on his shoulder. “I’m taking you home.”

 

....

 

After that initial understanding, Paeter had found ways to communicate with Zero. Hand signals, nods, the boy’s half busted omnitool. His own was hidden in a secret pocket of his duffle. The poor boy couldn’t make any vocalizations, not even in the subtonal range, he was fully mute. He spent little more than a week at the horrible compound, watching and learning routines so he could sneak them out. Had managed to talk the boy into smiling at his… mate just once so the man would let them stay together. As the Lord had run his hands over Zero’s fringe and kissed him, Paeter had seen how once, the man had probably genuinely cared for the boy. Until… Whatever happened had happened. Zero plain refused to give him any information about it, head shaking no and tears streaming down his face until the only thing Paeter could do to calm him was to hold him and he had, as gently as possible.

Now, he held the boy’s hand, guiding him through twisting trees and thorned overgrowth through the jungle surrounding the compound. There was no moon in the sky, the celestial orb in some dark phase but it provided the cover he needed. It took hours to make their way to the hidden evac shuttle that had been sent down via autopilot and just a scant hour before sunrise, Paeter helped Zero up the ramp. The boy was exhausted, sweating, his clothes dirty and his eyes vacant, steps shuffling but he’d made the trek with minimal help. Paeter was proud of him.

Zero practically collapsed to the floor of the shuttle once the airlock had sealed though, his head low and mandibles hanging. The agent was sure he was close to passing out. “Go on,” He said, walking past him to the controls. “I need to get us in the air and on our way, then I’ll fix up a pallet for you but if you’ve got to lie down, go ahead, it’s okay.”

The boy, obviously, didn’t answer, but when Paeter looked back over his shoulder, he was asleep, head on the over-packed duffle. The agent set the course and sent a communication to the Blackwatch ship two days away just outside the planet’s orbit. He had the boy, he was bringing him home, medical would need to meet him and by the Spirits, keep the Primarch busy until they had the kid looking less like road kill. Message received, he sat back to wait for a reply.

Paeter got up from the pilot’s chair, walking over to the boy and reaching overhead into a closed compartment of the shuttle. He pulled out two regular blankets and one emergency heat one since he could already see the boy shivering in his sleep. He spread the two regular blankets out on the floor, trying to puff them up to give the boy some cushion before he carefully pulled Zero on top of the pallet, somehow managing not to wake him. Paeter covered him with the heat blanket and fit the duffle under his head again for a pillow. The boy hadn’t woken once, not even a sleepy blink or flutter of his mandibles. 

The com on the console beeped and Paeter went back to the pilot’s chair. “I’m here,” He said softly to not wake the boy. “I’ve got Ze- Cato with me. He’s sleeping.”

There was a pause, then a staticy, professional voice replied.  _“What’s his condition?”_

Paeter glanced over his shoulder. “It’s not good, Sir. He’s malnourished, severely under weight and size for his age. Signs of abuse are clear. He’s…. He’s been muted, Sir.”

_“Muted?”_

He had to swallow to get the words to come out. “His vocal cords and tongue have been surgically removed. Judging by the scar tissue, I’d say probably in the last few months. Subvocal communication is impossible but he can read and write so we’ve been able to…talk, but it’s…. Hm, slow going.”

_“How is he mentally?”_  The question came after a while.

Paeter hummed. “He’s depressed. Lonely. Angry.” The agent listed off. “Intelligent, as far as I can tell. He seems to understand what’s been done to him is wrong and he seems to understand that I’m helping him but there’s a lot I can’t get him to… talk about.”

_“Such as?”_

“Such as the abuse or why he was muted or why the Lord was keeping him in a locked room, Sir. Based on my observations, I think the room he was confined to was a new development.” Paeter ran a hand back over his fringe. “The base is in shambles. The children that agent Virim reported in his final message were gone. I don’t know if they’d been moved somewhere or…. When I asked Cato about it, he cried, Sir. I think… I think the Lord disposed of the children shortly after agent Virim.”

There was a long silence. Paeter remembered that his commander and the murdered agent had been friends. It couldn’t be easy to hear all this. _“Once you’ve returned with Cato we’ll begin phase two.”_ The voice said.  _“No reason to hold back….. You’re two days out?”_

“Yes Sir.”

_“I’ll have medical meet you as soon as you dock and I’ll do what I can to keep the Primarch occupied until the boy’s been properly seen to. Sativum out._ ” 

The com went silent with a click and Paeter leaned back in his chair. He breathed in and held it, let it out slow and even. Then again. Spirits, what a mess. He glanced over his shoulder again. Cato hadn’t moved at all, he still slept peacefully. Paeter thought he might as well take the opportunity too as well and settled back in his seat, closing his eyes. 

Paeter didn’t know how long he’d slept before he heard movement and opened his eyes to Cato squirming up into his lap, tucking in all close to his chest with his face in his throat. He put his arms around the boy. “You okay?” He rasped sleepily, getting a nod in answer. “Nightmare?” The boy had a lot of them, he’d found out. 

Another soft nod rubbed under his mandible and Paeter spread his hands on the boy’s back and sides, trying to comfort him. The blanket around his shoulders slipped and the agent felt skin. A lot of skin. He stopped breathing.

“Cato,” He said at length, suddenly very much awake. “Why are you naked?”

The boy made no sound but for his breathing. At least one of them was. Paeter couldn’t seem to get any air in his lungs and they were starting to burn. Then the air was forced out of him as Cato nipped his throat and then kissed it. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, that little tongueless mouth sliding over his throat, teeth trailing. But it did, fucking Spirits, it did. Paeter could admit he was probably a little close to his heat and awfully susceptible to a warm body touching his but that was no real excuse.

“Cato-” He started, hands moving to shift him off his lap, to put him back on the pallet where he belonged and make him put his clothes back on, and that was when the boy bit him. When Cato’s chest rumbled with an disformed growl and Paeter instinctively answered with one of his own. He was way too close to his heat. Way too close.

The boy did shift in his lap but it was to straddle him, to press his ass over his clothed plates and grind on him until breathing wasn’t the only problem Paeter was having. The agent grabbed his hips to stop him and the boy left biting his throat to kiss his mouth. Hard, expertly, somehow even without his tongue. Paeter couldn’t help but make up the difference for him, holding under his fringe, sweeping his tongue into the boy’s mouth to taste him. How long that went on, he didn’t know, long enough to scramble thoughts and morals that told him he was taking advantage of the poor boy. Even if it felt like the other way around with how Cato ground his ass against him over and over and over.

Finally, Paeter managed to pull back from the kiss, panting as his head rushed and his blood pooled low. He tried to get words on his tongue but the boy was perched on his knees over his hips and his hands were working between them and Paeter had no words at all when cool little fingers wrapped around his cock and pulled it from his pants. Then he only had a long drawn out moan as the boy pumped him and guided him, as Paeter felt the tip of his erection slide between his cheeks to touch-

He scrambled, hands on the boy’s shoulders to push him off. “Cato-” The boy sank down his length in one go, quick and smooth, tight little hole spreading around him, enveloping him and making his hips buck until plating met ass. “-Fuck.” He hissed, staring at him, mandibles hanging.

The boy held his eyes and nodded, rose up his length just to take him deep again. Paeter shook his head, starting to say that this was bad, he was taking advantage, he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t, by the Spirits. Cato kissed him again and the agent felt the erection trapped between their stomachs as the boy rode him. Paeter wasn’t sure how long they stayed in the cramped pilot’s chair with the boy slowly taking him deeper just to lift off and do it again faster the next time, but soon, he wasn’t getting the kind of experience he wanted. Paeter grasped him under the thighs and rocked to his feet, the boy looking up at him in surprise as he was slowly drawn off his cock again. Paeter set him on his feet.

“P-” He cleared his throat. He should stop this now. He didn’t want to. Cato, clearly didn’t want him to either. “Pallet. Get on the pallet.”

The boy grinned slightly and went over to the pallet on the floor of the shuttle, laid down on his back and spread his legs wide. Paeter was between them in a heartbeat and plates deep inside the boy in another, another drawn out moan leaving his mouth as he pulled back just to thrust in again. Then again. Cato bucked to meet him every time, his legs wrapping around him soon, hands clinging to his arm, eyes staring up at him. Paeter kissed him again, trying to stay gentle and sweet for the boy after everything he’d been through, but the squirming body and wonderfully tight hole stretched around him just made him…. He hammered into the boy, chasing the high, his release, those cool hands that ran all over him, until finally-

The agent tried to pull back, to pull out,  _this_  was a bad idea but cumming in him too before he dropped the boy off with medical? He tried to pull away as his release started to crest, and Cato’s legs behind his back locked him in place. Paeter moaned and broke with a gasp, slamming into the boy a final time and filled Cato full, thrusting reflexively a few more times until he stilled, panting down into the Cato’s face. Staring at him, waiting to see anger or regret or something negative. Not that slow spread of mandibles that was a playful smile. For an instant, Paeter saw the boy he’d been before all the bad things happened.

And then he smelled eezo, the boy’s biotics flipping them around until  _he_ was the one on his back and Zero was making his legs spread. That was when Paeter realized Cato hadn’t cum but that he was going to. The boy gave him that grin again, the same one he’d given him at the start and the agent felt his erection touching him, pushing in…. He should definitely stop this…

Cato kissed him again, leaning over his chest, gentle and sweet and snapped his hips forward hard. Taking him much the same way he’d  _taken_  him and Paeter gasped as he was filled, grateful at least that Cato wasn’t all that big. The boy pounded into him like he knew what he was doing, hard and fast and constant on that clutch of nerves inside that had Paeter moaning and mewling in pleasure before he could even think to smother any of his noises. The boy’s teeth locked in his throat as his hips kept up a punishing rhythm. He didn’t last long, the first time, and Paeter felt the rush of his release deep inside. His hands were clutched around Cato’s upper arms and he’d swear his knuckles creaked when he finally let go, drawing the boy to him. The boy with tears in his eyes as he kissed him again.

It turned out, Cato was insatiable and hours later, when it was done, Paeter lay there on his back next to the boy, holding the side of his throat and noting that his hips were genuinely sore. Among other things. He glanced to the boy again, found him sleeping so peacefully and  _knew_  he’d have to put all this in his report, knew he’d have to write down how he’d…he’d had Cato and then how the boy had  _fucked_ him. The Primarch would know, his commander would, the med staff would. Paeter rubbed his eyes with his free hand. He should’ve pushed the boy off him, not dragged him closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna write the getting to the Blackwatch ship and meeting with the Primarch buuuuut we plan to do that in the actual rp thread when we get there so I didn't.


	56. From the Rubble- Igni Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From my latest verse. Cato Fedorian is a fighter pilot stationed aboard the Talonstriker (ship belonging to my rp partner). Ignatius- Igni to his friends- is the personal bodyguard to the Primarch, Cato's grandpa.

Igni would personally never forget the day he’d pulled Cato from the rubble of Parthia’s -formerly- largest eezo processing plant. He’d never forget running out of the first landing rescue boat with a dozen other people in eezo rated hazmat gear, skidding to a stop by Marcilenas’ car and seeing Cato’s blanket curled up on the seat. Or how he’d slammed the already distraught guard against the side of the vehicle and demanded to know where the toddler was. He’d personally never forget that first drop of fear at hearing  _I don’t know, Sir_ and how the fear had grown as he’d followed tiny little footprints left behind in the dust of dematerialized rocks and sand. He’d never forget how it felt like that fear and dread had swallowed him whole when hours later they’d found the body of Marcilenas Fedorian. Marci to her friends, which he’d always considered himself one, even if he’d watched her grow up alongside her parents, the new Primarch and his ailing mate.

But it was watching Cato be pulled from a half collapsed hole in the wall that had stuck with him almost two decades later. The toddler screaming and sobbing in turns, striking out with surprisingly sharp talons and teeth, kicking and punching and wiggling to get away from the rescue-worker that had reached through the hole and just grabbed and yanked him out as it had started to crumple like a stack of tin cans crushed from above. Igni had ripped his helmet off and thrown it away, uncaring of the severe eezo exposure in that moment, only wanting Cato to see his face and know he was safe. The toddler had been pushed into his arms and grown suddenly still but for quieting sobs and shaking mandibles, staring up with wet and wide browns eyes, his face smeared with purple paint. The toddler had said his name, one of the few words he knew, and put his tiny head against the hollow of his throat. Igni had promised himself then that he’d always be there for the boy no matter what was needed, and he’d promised Cato too. A few days later, he’d put the oath in writing and given it to the Primarch in a sealed envelope. 

The following days and months and years had been hard as the toddler grew to a boy, relearning everything along the way. The experience had shocked Cato to his Spirit but Igni never left his side. Driving him to see doctors for the body and the mind, once to meet a sect of the last remaining Valluvian priests- this kept secret from his grandfather- then later, to school, to his first day of boot camp, to the pilot’s corps every morning and picking him up again every night. He read to the boy, played with him on the floor, had allowed himself to be finger-painted and splattered with mud and buried in the sand up to his fringe and tackled into waist deep ocean water. He’d taught Cato to fish and hunt and drive. Had filled every role the boy had needed him to fill from friend to confidant to conspirator to protector to father to… lover.

That hadn’t been his plan. It had never been his plan. The thought had never struck him. He was Cato’s guiding Spirit made flesh not… not some creep. The conversation he’d had with the boy a few nights before he left for the Talonstriker had been completely objective. Cato would be away from home for the first time in his life, truly  _away_  and not just a short trip in a car. Igni had wanted to prepare him, this sweet and too trusting boy who gave his affection and friendship so easily. The conversation had by no means been to get the boy thinking along those… lines and certainly not about him. Hours later, when Cato had come to his room and kissed him so perfectly, Igni had laughed it off. Telling the boy- the young man- that he’d probably been a little confused about the conversation in general, that Igni certainly hadn’t meant to- Cato had kissed him again and told him there was no one more important or more trusted in his life and then kissed him yet again. Igni knew he should have stopped him but in that moment, that fear of failing the boy, of  _losing_  him that he’d carried within his chest for years, had suddenly not been there. In it’s place had been a little blue flame of love, of knowing Cato had spoken the truest words that he’d ever hear. That he mattered to the boy above anyone else. Igni had given in and it wasn’t long into the night before the blue flame of feeling in his chest grew outward to inhabit his Spirit and not long at all until he began to wonder if he’d always loved Cato in one way or another.

Igni had objectively tried to explain it to the Primarch when it all came out. When his confession had shocked Cato like that day of being pulled from the rubble. Vesimir hadn’t been happy. Igni had prepared to resign and disappear. Cato, the sweet and affectionate boy that he  _mattered_  to, hadn’t allowed it. The Primarch, while probably still a little angry- or a lot- let him stay, kept him as head of security. Igni hadn’t cared about that, not really, though it had been his life for the last forty years, it was still just a job and he knew he could easily find another. It was Cato, coming to his room later, and telling him that he wasn’t sure what love for another person felt like but he believed Igni when he said it. And then he’d just tried to show the boy what love felt like, what it could feel like for them. 


	57. Accident- Cato Drabble- Starpilot!Au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cato from my Starpilot!Au. Threads leading up to this, Cato's been moody, missing his lovers. One of which is at home on Palaven and the other way out of communication range.

Down in the gym after supper, Cato spotted Mav over by the heavy bag, hitting it with fast and hard strikes that sent the bag swinging. It came back and the small agent hit it again. The speed and precision reminded him of Dius and the boy whined in the back of his throat without realizing it. Mav stopped, catching the bag and turning to him.

“Hey there little Prince,” He grinned.

Cato’s mandibles hiked up. He liked it when Dius or Velox called him that, it was funny when Igni did it. But coming in Mav’s accented voice-  _lil’ prints-_  Cato didn’t care for it. If the agent noticed, he wasn’t sure and he didn’t show it.

“You wanna work out with me?” The agent offered. “I like to do a little before I sleep. Shuts my head up.”

The boy considered that. That was his problem, wasn’t it? That his head wouldn’t shut up with worries or doubts or whatever was making him so moody. “I… yeah, okay.”

Mav came over, wiping his hands on a towel he had hanging from his belt. “I can spar with you,” He said. “I know you do that with Dius sometimes. Probably been a while, yeah?”

Cato nodded. “Yeah, it’s been a while. Since before leave, I think.” He followed Mav over to one of the mats and took his shoes off, and his shirt too, laying them together in a pile.

“I’d kinda thought that, yeah,” The agent hummed. “Alright, easy stuff first then, then you can really come at me. Get some of that tension out.”

The boy looked up at him, brow furrowed.

“C’mon, anyone with eyes can see how tense you are, little Prince.” Mav flicked his mandibles gently. “If I can’t get you to come sleep- just sleep, mind you- with me and Velox, I don’t mind bein’ your punchin’ bag for a bit.”

Cato did his warm up, watching him with narrowed eyes, trying to remember that he liked Mav. He really did. “Why?”

The agent was warming up too. “Cuz I know Velox is worried ‘bout you,” He said. “Which makes me worry.”

“How’s that work?” The boy asked genuinely. 

“Well, what worries Velox, worries me cuz I care ‘bout him.” Mav said simply, stepping toward him. “And I know you care ‘bout him too. And I’m not tryin’ to guilt you into feelin’ bad, I’m just sayin’. Helpin’ you helps him, and I’d like to do that.”

The boy thought about it. He did like Mav, he remembered and the agent was sweet with Velox. “I’m not gonna go easy on you.”

The agent barked a laugh. “Little Prince, your absolute best is my easy, but c’mon, have at it.”

Cato’s mandibles fluttered in an almost smile and he sprang. Mav dodged, tripped him up. The boy splatted to the mat but was up again in no time, using all that Dius had taught him to press the attack. Mav never once took a swing at him, he never did more than dodge and push him back a few paces, but he kept encouraging Cato to come at him so the boy did. He even managed to land a few glancing blows but Mav still pushed him back every time.

A few rounds in, Cato was panting, his heart pounding in his chest and he was happy to see that Mav was breathing hard too and looked like he was actually concentrating on their fight and not just playing around. That was really encouraging and Cato sprang again, aiming a hit toward Mav’s jaw. The agent side-stepped, catching him by the wrist and yanking. Cato heard a pop and felt a flair of pain in his shoulder. He tried to pull away but Mav was halfway through the throw and trying to abort the motion himself that left them tangled on the mats together with their limbs at odd angles. Cato screamed in pain and struck out with his other hand. Mav let go of him completely with a sharp gasp.

The boy hit the mat with a whimper, reaching toward his shoulder and crying out again as it  _throbbed_  under his fingers.

Mav bent over him. “Fuck, I’m sorry Cato. Let me see, c’mon now, let me see.”

He hissed at Mav’s hands touching his arm and shoulder joint. “Hey, look at that, just dislocated. That happens. We were not in a good stance for me to try that. Lucky you’re such a damned feather-weight or we’d have managed to really break you. I’m sorry, Cato. C’mon, lemme help you up. The docs can fix this in two secs and give you the good stuff to boot. You’ll be right as rain tomorrow.”

Cato got his feet under him with a hand on the mat, letting Mav pull him up. He slipped a little in something slick and looked up. Cried out again. “Mav!” The boy whined. The agent’s face where he’d smacked him was torn open from fringe to jaw by his talons and blood was flowing down the side of his neck. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Mav, I didn’t mean to! I didn’t!”

“It’s all good, little Prince, not the first time. Maybe trim your talons more than once a month though, yeah?” Mav got him standing and then walking. “I know, I know. C’mon, time for the infirmary.”

“I’m sorry,” The boy whined again. Velox was going to kill him and the Captain would punish him and he wouldn’t get to paint and Spirits, he’d hurt Mav.

“Hey now, accidents happen. I’ll be fine. ‘Sides, medigel is a wonderful thing, ain’t it?” The agent patted him on the back as he guided him out of the gym. 


End file.
